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saintrosalyn · 2 months ago

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JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained.

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor.

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left.

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge.

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off.

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator.

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room.

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you?

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him.

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life.

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon.

Freedom.

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing.

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours.

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat.

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient.

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet.

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow.

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.”

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you.

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either.

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs.

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone.

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it.

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard.

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours.

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon x reader #ghost x you #ghost #simon ghost riley #reader is delulu in this

6K notes · View notes

tonycries · 7 months ago

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FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you.

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table.

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too.

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint.

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight.

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again.

You notice - of course, you do.

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way.

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!”

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos.

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out.

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head.

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso.

Mom?

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst.

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt.

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page.

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-”

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. ��-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better.

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly.

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM.

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with.

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake.

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy.

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers.

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.”

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity.

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering.

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe.

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose.

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five.

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching.

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder.

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-”

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum.

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high.

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch.

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.”

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue.

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck-

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins.

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him.

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate.

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut.

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass.

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course.

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock.

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and-

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago.

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more-

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?”

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so.

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again.

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick.

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh.

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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acid-ixx · 3 months ago

Text

ch.4: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five pt 1

read until the end for an author's note.

tw: self-esteem issues, alcohol abuse, allusions to self-harm.

"baby bird, i know i haven't been talking to you much as of lately. but i just want to let you know that we miss you alright?"

not delivered.

"i really regret ignoring you, we all do. i'm-"

he hesitates, then deletes the last word of his message.

"—we're the ones in the wrong for everything, alright? you blocked me, i'm sure you did for everyone else too, i get that, but we care for you now and that won't change anytime soon. please remember that."

not delivered.

"and it pains me seeing that you're not replying to my messages at all, baby bird. but i promise i'll-"

dick bites his lips at the mistake of addressing himself only rather than that of the family, but a greedy part of him wants you to read the messages and to see only him in spite of everything rather than them, feeling a sense of... need to be the first and only one you see when you think about accepting their apologies, even if he's writing to you whilst simultaneously trying to get his family in your good graces.

dick doesn't know it. why he's suddenly obsessed with you. you? yes you, his stupidly precious sibling, the one who looked up to him, frail and wronged by the world, with so much drive behind that stare. third child of bruce, yet second youngest in the family. the one that got away, the one he has never once saw outside that one memory of glinting, awe-inspired eyes that told more stories than poets, drew more emotions than artists.

nobody saw you outside of your status as the manor's ghost— but compared to your other siblings, he knew you the most. he wants to be the only man good enough to be considered your brother, your oldest brother; an obligation he's willing to uptake just for you. he wants to be the only one with the authority to call you his baby bird. he doesn't know why, despite the thirteen and a half years, it's him wanting, no, needing to see you again.

you, just you.

every bits and pieces of you.

in his mind, it's just him and you. in your tiny little bedroom, with your dozens of sketchbooks and diaries, with only your brother, dick, to accompany you. in your own little world, as you speak to him of your dreams and passions with nothing else in your mind. you'd look up at him with sparkling eyes, look at him like he means everything in the world to you, and he'd see you as his world.

when he thinks of that, the more he hopes of the possibility of you reading his messages; his declaration of never leaving you alone anymore. and with hope comes along this dread that you'd reply with a nasty reply, or that... you'll never bat an eye him anymore.

dick doesn't take a second glance to correct his mistake again this time.

"i promise i'll be better for you baby bird. my little hatchling, my little one. i discarded you, someone so precious. you must've felt hurt, no? i get that, i'm so sorry you have to go through that because of me. but look! you have me now, we have each other now! and that might not be enough yet to mend the bridge i left to fall, but if you just, please reply to me, or anyone else, then we can fix this. i promise, baby bird."

not delivered.

"you won't ever feel hurt anymore, or sad or lonely. hell, even bruce is getting you a new bedroom fixed up, isn't that great!? i'll even convince the old man to make sure your room is close to my old one so you can visit me anytime. i'll even stay over at gotham for even longer, just for you! and i'll spend my time with you, with just the two of us, okay? nobody else can disturb us. i'm sure you'd like that too."

not delivered.

"and we can hang out anytime you want, no? sleepovers, movie nights, journalling— all the cool stuff you wanted to do with me in the past, we can do now! and it'll be fun with you, i can see it happening alrrady, i just know it. you can't convince me otherwise, baby bird."

not delivered.

"that's why i'm begging you to unblock me, little one, or to at least read all my previous messages, please? :( i'm still so sorry over how i treated you in the past. i've nothing to defend myself over how i acted towards you. i was so delusional, ignoring you when all you clearly wanted was to spend time with me, with the family."

not delivered.

"we can even have that dinner together, remember?! at that fancy restaurant you talked about, yeah? my treat, of course. you can order the entire damn menu and i'll leave you room for seconds and desserts. i can even make arrangements to get bruce to rent out the entire restaurant so it would just be the two of us plus the family, but mostly just us— that would be good! then you can sleep at my room after we get home to the manor since we're turning your old one into an atelier just for you! i'll even carry your cute little figure up any flight of stairs whenever you get tired."

not delivered.

"i promise i'll really make it up to you baby bird!!! <3"

not delivered.

"for all the times we neglected you, left you thinking you didn't deserve a spot in the manor (which you truly do, it's us to blame for never seeing it that way), made you feel negative emotions towards us— i'll take your pain and turn that into joy, i promise."

not delivered.

"and if you do manage to read through all this, please remember..."

not delivered.

"i love you so much, alright? we'll find you soon, and you'll be happier with us, i'm sure of it. i love, love, love you so much my baby bird."

not delivered.

he sighs, resigning his thoughts all to himself as he checks his phone every minute for a simple ring of notifications just from you. he prefers to leave his phone in silent mode from the multitude of other contacts bothering him, but god forbade if that means he'd scroll past to a single reply of yours, then he'd rather burn in hell.

and anything is better than the pain inflicted on him when it comes to the thought of you ignoring him.

because after all, he does mean it when he says he loves you, his baby bird, his adorable little sibling.

he'd rather hell than you seeing him any less of an older brother.

what takes longer? is it a seed growing into a bud, a bud into a bloom, or a flower to fully shrivel and die?

how long does it take for it to be considered worthy? deserving of attention and the rightful spotlight to attain its needs for life?

what takes its time? what other variable does it need for it to survive in such harsh conditions? if it's forcefully pried open as a seedling, as a bud growing in a field full of weeds sapping, draining it of its nutrition, or in a scorching, desolate desert, or pestilent lands; would it still be considered a flower?

what does a seed need to grow into a flower? beautiful, treasured, with vibrant colors reflecting off the surface of each petal, growing pollen for every pollinator to spread its bountiful success you call development?

what does it require?

everyone knows the answer, some could only be ignorant enough to turn the other way and reject the idea altogether.

it needs care, nourishment — healthy soil building a strong foundation, its home with roots carefully embedded in the ground, then it also requires water, a source of life given to it in specific times with just the right dose, and sunlight kissing its stems and petals warmly — and finally, love.

lots of love, attention, and patience from mother nature herself and its caretakers we call humans.

but how could a flower receive any, if not, all it needs, if it's raised under a marshy, overgrowth rainforest that speaks of death and cruel poachers that could step on the bloom of any moment?

how could a flower live, let alone survive, if its careless caretakers who took it away from its fertile lands neglect it of its requirements to grow and bloom into its rightful imagery?

just how?

you are a flower.

and you will wilt soon the longer you live in what you once thought was your home.

growing in cracked, dry soil, with no water nor sunlight aiding your growth.

you are a flower.

who had been loved by your creator, mother nature herself; your mother. but you've never once felt the care nor love of your cruel humans you call family, your father had never once saw your budding petals, kissed it, patiently watered or spent time outside in the sunlight with you. your brothers don't notice your dehydrated pets, shriveled leaves and bent stems, nor do they tend to it. your sisters don't decorate the pot you reside it, they don't talk to you every time you sag down in loneliness and isolation as you are forced to stay in the same place and witness the same scenarios over and over again.

not much knows it, but flowers, much like any plant, can communicate, they can feel. and when they do, they do deeply.

and you are a flower. a flower worthy of being pressed into books, storing your beauty forever. a flower worthy of being situated into a stunning arrangements of bouquets, worshipped through birthdays, dates, weddings, and even funerals.

you're a flower, and you're beautiful and deserving of praise and honor from your stages in life as a seed, from a bud, to a blooming flower. yet you're neglected the same way ignorant trespassers would step on growing blooms, uncaring for sabotaging their life completely, and oh-so easily.

you're a flower, a symbol of nature's fertility, resilience, and tranquility.

you symbolize your mother's long standing determination to care for a child whose father looked other ways but her. who raised her seedling with care, watered them with stories of fairytales: fantasies about prince charmings who take their flowers away from barren lands to spoil them with rich soil and neverending sunlight, about princesses who stop by flower shops to awe at the arrangements of bouquets, eyes glazing with fervor as they recount each and every symbolism every unique flower shares.

your mother places you in your favorite, decorated pot: your shared bedroom with her, and she kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your chubby little fingers, the same way the illuminating sunlight kisses at your flushed body whenever you two would go out for your walks.

she was your mother nature, and you were her precious flower.

you were once a blooming bud then, and you wished you would still bloom now.

how could you grow into what you're worth, when even you couldn't grow without the love that was taken from you?

what about the care, the patience, the determination she once held in her warm gaze, now cold and fading with life the last time you saw her; would it all be a waste?

how could you grow now?

and yet you don't even need to ponder for solutions. the answers were clear, clear as the water your petals used to bathe in, clear as the rain that pitters against alfred's car windows the same day you were taken away from your mother's hold—

you simply wilt.

8:31PM.

your friend said she'd pick you up quarter to nine, so you'd at least have the time to prepare and make yourself look good. but right now...

god, right now, you don't feel anything good, not even a wee bit of it at all. ever since he texted you, you feel like shit, utterly repulsed. vile, like the image of you vomiting every contents of your stomach— and now you're going out drinking with an empty one. you can already feel the bitter taste of heavy alcohol mixing in with the acids of your stomach.

you can already feel the breakdown you're having right now as you remember how fucking broke and useless you are for having to ask your friends to treat you to drinking because you have nothing left to offer beyond the fucking taxes you have to pay and the nearly due rent and bills.

you have nothing to offer. you're so shitty. you deserve to die.

the more you stare at the mirror, the more your eyebags seem to deepen, your lips began to dry, and the pit in your chest sunken.

and that makes you exhale even deeper, ignoring the way your throat constricts on itself in instinct.

your eyes flitter to your fingers, nails bitten, skin ripped at the seems with dry blood staining chipped cuticles.

when you looked back at your reflection, you want to cry even more, seeing an image of a moving pile of flesh. all puffy skin and sagging eyes.

you don't remember the last time you felt pretty about yourself.

whether it was in the manor, or back when your mother was the only one raising you— it seems like your memories are in shambles right now.

you don't remember the last time you looked in a mirror, looking healthy, fresh, and proud of yourself for dressing up in your style. in the back of your mind, there will always be hatred, resentment for how you look. and right now, you hate how you every bit of your appearance because...

because you look exactly just like an image of your mother and bruce wayne. a reminder, your punishment for your parents' beautifully tragic affair with one another. a billionaire who courted the lowly dirt-class slut of gotham.

yet you're uglier because you're not them, you couldn't be them. you're not picture-perfect brucie with slick-black hair and a face like fine-aged wine, or the image of your sultry, "man-eater" mother in her lingerie. you're just, you— you've inherited all the stupid flaws you wished you could shave off your damn body.

you remember seeing your father's face in television with your mother beside you by the couch, combing your hair and giggling when your eyes had lit up at the sight of the rich man. you haven't once took your eyes off the news channel whenever he appeared, looking at bruce, always enamored with his aesthetics, only to never notice your mother's tired eyes, or how shaky her fingers would sometimes become.

"momma, that's daddy, right?!" you asked her whilst the side of your body was pressed against hers, with all the enthusiasm a child could muster. your grin was wide, eyes peeled to the screen, enough to ignore the flinch in your mother as you had once thought it was her igniting with the same excitement as yours.

she simply leans down and kisses your cheeks, her eyes, a beautiful shade of your eyes color, albeit lighter in hue, never once left the crown of your small head, ignoring the headline for the news about 'brucie's new fling caught on camera!'.

your mother was so glad you were still illiterate at your age. she wish she could never break off the illusion that it was her who simply birthed to you, with no face for a father. maybe you would've never ask her about why he had never once came to visit your small family, why you could never meet your other siblings, or why he's seen with multiple other women by his side every time you open the television.

you ask at frequent intervals; it makes her wish to strip away the past in which she chose to tell you who your father was. you would've experienced less heartbreak, she would've never seen the way your eyes would dim at her every excuse, or the way she felt your heart crack at the seams, only further breaking hers.

yet after a while, she replies and buries her thoughts, ignoring the tears that lid her eyes. with not so much enthusiasm in her light voice, with the undertones of guilt and sorrow digging deep throat her throat, but it was enough for young, little you to jump on your springy couch with her response.

"... oh, yes, that's your papa...! isn't he so nice looking—?"

"and handsome! i'm so lucky to have such beautiful parents! i wish i was as pretty as you, momma, and daddy too!"

when you had looked up with haste, glinting eyes staring up at her with a wide grin, some baby teeth still present, others absent from your gums, yet you displayed admiration no less; your mother just as quickly wipes her red eyes and sniffling nose with the worn sleeves of her sweater and reciprocates your beaming energy with a small smile.

she wishes you'd dismiss her previous melancholic expression, replacing it with the same fond, yet tired gaze she always offers you, wishing you'd be as oblivious to the pain it brings her to see your hopes and dreams of meeting a father you could only admire through a screen or article. yet you're always so perceptive, so interlinked with her reactions that she's sure that one of the few positive traits your father had given you. she should've expected your words, yet her broken heart finds a path to heal whenever you sense her pain and soft a bandage to the cracks of her bleeding scars with your kindness.

you would always be her little flower. the one she'd nurture in a garden filled with rosy bushes and scarring thorns.

"—you're so beautiful, momma, even if you cry because daddy isn't here with us, or you're too tired taking care of me. you're beautiful because you're my mother, and i'll take you over everything in the world..."

and you tell her, an inaudible whisper to your voice, with eyes that were once wide, beaming with joy, now gazing at her with softness like the wind kissing blades of grass in a gentle dance. you look at her, and she stares back, eyeing your chubby cheeks and lips the same shape of hers, the ends of your lashes curves the same way as hers, and your voice matches her like a lullaby when you speak every vowel in a soothing lilt.

you calm the hurt in her chest, replacing it with a mellow warmth. she even forgot the tears that slowly dripped her eyes, all replaced with the comfortable softness of her precious child's palms, smooth and cozy, resting on both of her cheeks as you pepper her crying face with kisses.

she holds both your palms caging her, and allows the your hold to linger for longer. the silence ensues, yet you both embrace the unsaid assurances.

it's times like these where she realizes you encapsulate the beauty of both worlds.

it's moments like this, she sees herself in you, and maybe she could lead herself to believe that she is beautiful, because she sees her beauty through her child, her grace.

the memory only further deepens the guilt in your heart.

if there's one word to describe you now. it would be disgrace. to your father's honor, and your mother's legacy. for easily letting yourself go, for being so weak, for being the line that jumps between two polar opposites of one another; trying to traverse their path of belonging.

you're a disgrace, a mistake, and you deserve to be treated as such.

it was why you never find yourself beautiful. a person such as yourself would always find allure, worth in all things chaotic - you live in gotham after all - but never find that same value in yourself as you look at your reflection that distorts your image even more, making you uglier and uglier the longer you look.

split ends everywhere, hand tangled, reddish eyes from nearly crying again.

even if you beat at yourself, erratic and impulsive, even if your skin is colored an ashen blue and purple, rotten shades of yellow and red, you think of yourself ugly and repulsive.

no matter how much color you try to bring into your bleak, repulsive life, at the cost of hurting yourself to become pretty— every part of you will always be that ugly, little duckling in comparison of your siblings who always outshone you.

dick with his playboy body, jason and his towering one, tim with soft boyish features, damian's silky tan and smooth skin, and duke's baby face.

you couldn't even have your hair frame you as perfectly as steph's light blonde hair does, or share barbara's proportionate face, or look as gracious yet deadly like cassandra.

you're nowhere near as special, you're not like them. you have features too unique, yet out of place, and you couldn't bring yourself to be conventionally good-looking.

you hate yourself so much. you hate every little mole, every little pimple, every damn imperfection that litter your body, making you even lesser than what you already are.

your family; mother, father, brothers and sisters, god, even your fucking friends! every time you sit by them side-by-side, you'd feel insecure, imperfect, an eyesore and you just want to strip away every part of your limbs one by one if that meant replacing it with even better ones; all for the sake of at least feeling pretty.

you remember the first time you tried to find a sense of style, and damian's comment and– god fucking damn it—!

your hands found its way to your brushed hair, tangling itself through already fragile strands to rip at the seams. you don't care, you don't fucking care, you pray to any god out there to get them out of your head, pleas unheard, you're always left to hurt.

"what are you trying to achieve with that, huh? what even are you trying to think with that horrendous color combination? what are you, a clown? even that damned joker has more coordination than you think you could achieve."

in front of his friend, jon kent, with a scowl on his ever-so angry face and his hand already making a way to grip his sword; an absolute threat to dice you up shall you ever bother being in the same room as him.

he said that to you... you're older, you could've been stronger, could've at least found a semblance of fight in your bones. but no! god, no. your life was ruled with fear with damian wayne being the demon haunting you in the manor, always making living harder, making breathing a heavy task.

how could you ever fight back? not when you've conditioned yourself to tear up at the slightest bit of noise, feel goosebumps prick your skin when you hear someone raise their voice at you, and your heart rate hasten at the slide of a knife against any surface?

you! you who's so fucking weak to even make a comeback. you, who ran away with wide, traumatized eyes. because you're scared, so fucking fearful of an even bigger cut to your skin marked by damian— even if you're accustomed to cutting yourself with even deeper gashes.

because it's him that you fear, not the pain, not anymore. just him and his contempt at you for ruining his pure bloodline just by you being his half-sibling.

you don't want a repeat of your first meeting, or any meeting with him at all. not when you'd drown even deeper in a pit of fear every time you stare at his glaring, emerald eyes. one that tells you he chose to merely not kill you out of the goodness of his heart. but he will, god he will if he feels you've been too comfortable in his presence.

every damn time, everytime you feel fear, you see green. you hate green, any literal meaning of it, every implication of itx even seeing it, and fuck! your outfit has green embellishments.

you feel even uglier, yet the twinge of fear immediately overpowers any concern your had with your appearance. it's as if eyes were suddenly on you, and it's not only yours staring at you in the mirror.

your lips wobble, snot began blocking through the passage of your nose.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

why?! why can't you just forget about them all. why, why, why?!

you bite your lips harshly to conceal the pained whimpers from the back of your throat, but it doesn't work. it only makes the fear worse.

tears rim at your eyes, you merely wipe them away. your heart attempts to beat out of its gilded cage, yet you swallow your quivering chokes and proceed to continue staring at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a rush, with nothing to conceal your ghastly eyebags and sunken skin.

and green. you'll see it everywhere now. fuck, would dick send out damian to kill you now? you don't know, you're scared but you can't chicken out, not when your friend is already near to your apartment. god you wish you had beer in your cabinets instead, but you're broke and unprepared for life and your hair's all in a tangle and you just fucking want to die.

your hands grip at the edge of your sink, you look at your mirror and see the blood on your already bitten lips.

not even concealer can cover the damn scars all over your face all through the neck.

calm down.

you stare even deeper at yourself and ignore the green, trying to think of something else—

something less emotionally scarring, like your appearance. even if it brings you great pain, too, you'd rather that than your family. no more of them, fuck, no more. even if you stare at your eyes and see that familiar mix of colors of your mother and bruce's eyes. the shape of your face, even the curve of your brows all resembled your late mother— and you miss her, her captivating beauty that you never saw aged like fine way before she was taken away from you. you see bruce in the strands of your hair and the way it sometimes fray when too stressed. you see them in every image you wish to erase of yourself.

yet your genetics are nothing to them, not when you can't even care for your tangled hair or ashen skin.

even the dead looked more lively than you ever could.

with a pale complexion, with scars that litter all over your shoulders, wrists, and hidden parts of your body, one you're too ashamed to show anybody— it was no doubt that you looked pathetic and erased the beauty that both your parent's cultivated. and it makes you wonder; would it really be worth it?

would it be worth it if the people around you see you?

you with your melancholic eyes, trying to find an escape in a maze you call your mind? you can picture yourself drinking alcohol until you reach the domain of death, sitting in a stool, alone, as you nearly empty the contents of your stomach remembering the sole reason why you're there in the first place.

would it be worth it if all eyes suddenly were on you? they turn to you to gaze at the ugly bruises on your body, they mock your appearance, call you names, look at your sniveling, red nose and warm cheeks intoxicated from all the heavy liquor you'd down, and whisper. they'll whisper insults, slurs, and every known jab until it's all their words that pierces through your eyes, until the loud bass becomes mere background chatter for all the gossips that ensue.

are you actually going to do this right now?

you don't know, you don't know and you wish never cared as much.

all you could really focus on was your eminent goal of getting out of your stuffy apartment, to rid of the paranoia that somehow, you're being watched over in the confines of your four walls and that the familiar image of green will come attack you. the more you think, the more the hairs on your skin start to raise with every known intention to signal you of your anxiety.

eyes, they may be everywhere.

eyes, eyes, eyes. as you stare at your eyes, you try to ignore emerald eyes, they dilute even further. you gulp, yet your focus remains distorted. images flash at the mirror, and suddenly they're here, with you, with their eyes. bright blue for some, dark green for another, and they all gaze at you with contempt. one's hand claws at your throat, the other pins your wrist down on the edge of the sink. the eyes glare, and they never soften. yours merely shook, unblinking as your breathing becomes heavier; trapped in the cages of their wanton staring.

you yelp, then blink. when you did, they're gone. and you're back to looking at the same image of yourself. you grimace slowly.

ugly, with dry skin and falling hairs. the worst version of you, the normal version of yourself— there was never a best version for you.

as long as it's you, you'll never be enough.

all you wanted was to drink with your friends at a club; some working nightshifts at the location you're going to— yet you want to back down. want to take your phone by the corner of your vision and cancel your sudden plans.

but you're scared, you're so fucking scared of any new messages.

hell, even finding the contacts for your friends was a task in itself you wish to never repeat. with jittery fingers trying to type of messages and blurry eyes navigating through the screen of your slippery, glass screen protector.

you're scared, rightfully so.

you're scared to find his message once more suddenly popping up, your fingers accidentally pressing on it like the clumsy swine you are, and rereading that damn heart over and over again.

you slam your dominant hand against the tiled sink, hard and uncaring for the pain it induced all throughout your body. the tremors of the impact shook you to your core, yet you seethe in your breath and don't allow yourself respite to let the tears flow freely from your already red eyes. you feel your heart beating erratically through your chest, the shivers controlling your body, the shrieks that you contained within you— and you enchain them all with no respect for yourself.

you deserve this. you deserve to be hurt, to be punished for your actions, for your mistakes, for your sins.

even if your hand became swollen, splotched with varying shades of disgusting purples and yellows, you won't treat it with medicine. even if the sharp edges of the sink broke the fragile layer of your already scarred palm, and bled profusely with that familiar shade of red; you won't rush to wrap it with gauze or even spare a droplet of betadine. even if by the next day you'd have to write out your overdue assignments with that specific hand, then you'll force yourself to learn through the other and punish yourself again if you fail once more.

you deserve this.

and as your phone pings, lighting up to show you a notification of one of your friend's messages about being ready to pick you up by the lobby of your apartment's ground floor, you ignore your injured hand and the bruises on your knees from falling so abruptly on tiled floors just moment's ago. you dismiss the ache of your head, the soreness of your eyes and the disgusting beat of your heart.

you ignore the pain that wrecks at your entire body, in favor of destroying it even more, just as you deserve.

you don't recall how many shots you had before you're nearly passed out by the bar, sitting on its stool with your head leaning on one both your arms crossed, drool close to slipping out of the corners of your mouth and heavy eyes lidded, about to fall into the depths of sleep.

you're sure you looked wasted, absolutely drop-dead drunk with no thoughts circulating in your head other than the pleasant buzz in your ears and the flash of colors in the disco balls blanketing the entire room with its neon lights. your face must've been an unearthly shade of red, and you can already feel just how blazen it is, and how your fingertips are ice-cold to the touch (probably colder than the marble you lay your arms upon). in other words, you're actually wasted.

and it's so worth it if it means it gets you to forget. and forget you did, because you can't even dig deep into your head to even remember a single memory of whatever grief you went through earlier in your apartment. not even the throb of your head from when you pulled your hair from its roots, all to the way you slammed your dominant hand on your bathroom sink, bruising it with unnatural shades of purples and yellow.

it makes you omit every type of pain, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. it doesn't cure you of your ails, but god forbid you if you just want to savor moments where nothing but a mind numbing headache is the only feeling present in your current state.

the remix of songs were long forgotten in your mind, they all become an amalgamation of miscellaneous sounds. your body is so inclined towards the flat, rectangular cool surface of the marble glass of the bar that you can guarantee you could sleep here, especially since black behan to cloud both your vision and your mind.

everything feels so hazy, and pleasant, and straight-out peaceful that the screaming tandems of equally drunk clubbers and the occasional sobers holding up their friends who sang along with whatever remix the dj comes up with, or the forming crowd as people began to rock and dance to the bass that shakes up the entire floor to the point you can feel vibrations run along your spine— didn't register within the crevices in your mind.

all you can focus on, is the gratifying pleasure ll alcohol induces in your body. gone is the feeling of fear that emanates off of every inch within your body. your bones don't feel as if it's locking up everytime you feel eyes on you, and your throat doesn't certainly feel constricted with the lack of flow of blood anymore.

god, this is why you've never once regret drinking right after the moment you turned eighteen— not when it's positive effects outweighs all the negative emotions that rule over your body.

you couldn't even notice a man with shades (seriously, who wears that to party? isn't the club dark enough?) sitting beside your drunken form in the corner of your eyes, raptured in the thin line between focusing on reality and drifting off to dream world. you don't even bat an eye to his muffled giggles and the way he twisted his stool just to admire the view: you.

you're oblivious to the entire commotion happening within the depths of his mind because you couldn't feel any aptitude to danger right now— thanks to the effects of the hard liquor overtaking whatever fear you've felt being watched long ago.

or maybe you just felt safe beside the stranger. or, you're merely drunk. you don't know.

fuck, you're so close to passing out.

you don't know where your friends are, where they came running off to but you know you won't be getting out her sooner or later and you definitely don't have a ride home. so your only way back without getting ambushed as a completely vulnerable citizen of gotham, is by a safer, more convenient means of a ride— but that certainly wouldn't be safe if your friends are as equally drunk, or even more so, as you. but does your hazy mind care? no. not when you flip your head to rest on the other side once the other side became hotter that you notice a conveniently attractive man staring right back at you with an entertained grin.

as if your existence alone makes him happy. as much as your mind keeps blanking out, that mere implication made your heart pang just a teensy bit. of pain, or pleasure, or mere joy, you don't know. but you do know that it triggered some unknown feelings and you don't want to feel.

you want to drink some more, feeling solemn all of a sudden just from staring at him. you're sure the obvious frown on your quivering lips and the heavy, hot sigh

and it doesn't help that his face seems similar. the longer you stare, the more his grin seems to sharpen. confidently? or shyly? you can't seem to gain a clear image of him; what when rainbow lights are blazing out through the holes of the disco ball and your eyes recently just opened to your near journey to traverse through sleep.

all you can make out to be is his jet-black hair, side bangs framing the left side of his face, a faint outline of an eyebrow piercing

you also took note of his spiky jacket— yet what draws you the most to him are his sunglasses that he chose to wear conspicuously in a damn club of all places.

he's attractive, to say the least, but he triggers a set of emotions deep into the cages of your imprisoned heart that sets itself free. he gives you a sense of nostalgia, of familiarity that you can't pinpoint but feel; like you've seen him before but don't know when. your eyebrows furrow in and your eyes squint at him, unknowing to the judgement you're subjecting him in. your lips wobble, though, because his presence just makes your heart feel something, akin to pain but not quite, and makes your head buzz that you just want to cry as a reaction.

he, the stranger, don't know it, but he makes you all sad, primal emotions overtaking any drunkenness you feel as deep tremors buzzed into the confines of your chest, until all you're doing is staring at him with pouting, downturned lips and sad, puppy eyes; rimming with salty tears.

you don't know why you feel sad all of the sudden, and you can faintly see through blurry, watery vision how his face shifted from entertained to worry, eyebrows raised and eyes wide open at your sudden mood shift.

maybe you or him could've spoken up, you more so, but you're just so emotionally drained and overwhelmed today that you began sobbing silently without breaking eye contact with the man.

despite you wanting to say anything: an introduction, a question opening up as to why he's staring at you, or even a mere phrase telling him to "back off"; the only words that came out from your parched throat, all from trying to reason in your head on what a proper sentence should be, were:

"you're hot," and if you were sober enough, you would've felt sheer embarrassment and shame from eyeing the boy, but you're not— and because you're not sober, or any bit sane, the next few sentences you spewed out were all coherent, yet wonkily pronounced utterances paired with teary eyes and sniffling nose, as you can't seem to control the feelings of melancholy in your heart and the sudden emotional burst from your ramblings.

"thank you, you too, actually— but are you alright-"

"you're so hot, god, please. i don't know..." you gave him no time to speak as you hiccupped, lips wobbling even more than you can imagine. and you're trying your damn best to rid of the urge to punch at your chest as a coping mechanism through the multitude of emotions eating you up and away. but you never realized you were trying for an absolute stranger, palms fisting into itself as he stares at you worriedly all of a sudden.

"like... you're familiarly attractive, i—" the next few sentences were incoherent as your words bubbled around you like detergent soap. your fingers found itself into your face as you try to wipe off both tears and nearly dripping snot as you continued rambling drunkly.

"you just! you're hot, for me, i don't know... i'm just, we all—eughh... i don't know, i'm so sad..." and you truly are, for no reason at all other than seeing the man. poor him, must've felt so ashamed that he's the reason you're crying but at the same time... nothing can really stop you from ceasing your tears.

at least, that's what you've convinced yourself to believe in. that you're truly incurable of the ailment of being constantly depressed with nobody to aid you with your troubles. not even your friends, nor past therapists that you've consulted.

you've nothing to comfort you, and that makes you even more solemn than ever.

the simplest of emotions felt, the deeper and complex you take it out to be. sadness, or moreover depression, the horseman of apocalypse that destroys any hope you've tried to kindle with your life.

it makes you all the more burst into a wave of even more tears.

"... okay, okay, wait here for me, alright?" he suddenly stood up, hurriedly, probably unsure, or disgusted by you. you're unsure about what he's saying, too caught up crying that you simply nod to whatever he said and continued on with your episode.

as you're left alone, you allow your tears to dry only cry once more. when he left you, you weren't aware but you just felt even more lonely. at pushing away the only company you had after your friends left you in the dust, you feel depressed and regretful and all emotions related to grief and you just want to drink some more but you don't know if you can take it anymore!

god, it all returns to pain. pain you thought you could bury deep once you took multiple swigs of alcohol.

pain that makes you want to bang your head against the marble of the bar—

and you're so close to doing so, but only stopped when your blurry vision sets itself on the man returning with a handkerchief and a cold glass of ice water. at his kind gesture, you simply teared up even more, pouting when he walked your way and looked at you with a sheeping grin.

when he sat right back up on the stool seated to your right, he hesitated with his hold on the handkerchief near your face. but the moment he gathered up his pride and pressed it against the unnatural blaze of your cheeks, you merely leaned closer to his palms, eyes closing as you can feel the tears cease itself finally at the blind comfort he's unknowingly providing you.

"there, there... be careful, 'kay stranger?"

he mutters, a light chuckle accompanying him. it's only now you can finally focus on the cool churn of his voice and the , with your eyes close and the haze of your thoughts washing away, leaving you breathless in your respite— not restrictive, nor lonely, but still short of breath.

this reminds you of the times alfred had to hold you in his arms everytime you threw a tantrum at the manor.

it made you realize that the months, a near year even, after leaving the manor, made you crave physical affection. making you feel like a husk of yourself when not given. you feed off of the scraps of physical lovez to the point that even this man who's wiping away the tears from your cheeks makes your heart beat faster, in a comfortable manner.

sensations. he once told you that if you feel too deeply within, then to ground yourself you must feel beyond interior ranges of emotions.

and that's the technique you've been willing away from your head for so long. because it always requires another person in the room to comfort you, to simply touch you softly, gently like you're porcelain the same way the stranger is pressing damp fabric against your tearstained cheeks and hollowed out eyes.

the pain you've felt was because you're merely touch starved. alone, in a space where everyone has someone, and a no one can't have anyone.

but now that you do have a someone, no matter how dangerous he could've been outside of your impression of him, you feel the pain lessen, the heavy burdens become featherlight at his kind gestures of wiping all the salty tears from your face, the runny snot from your nose with no rush whatsoever.

"feel better now, hon?"

"mhm..." a long, drawled out yawn emits from your mouth, yet you're too comfortable with him to even care, suddenly feeling a wave of drowsiness after your emotional episode.

after he finished wiping your face, and felt it considerably cool down from the damp fabric, he placed it on the bar, one hand on your face keeping you stable. yet his other hand promptly went back to your cheeks.

he chose to do this of his own volitions, even leaning closer as your head finds itself slowly dropping to his clavicle (careful to avoid the spikes from his peculiar designed jacket), looking up at him and staring at his gray eyes.

the man looks down at you as you now realize he's cupping your face. at the implication of your entire ordeal with him, you might've felt flustered sober, but you're just so drunk that any spacial awareness for the proximity between your bodies just disappeared and left you with the need to sleep within the confines of the safety this man left you with.

you don't know it, but yet again the man smiles down at your adorable antics, finding the way you're absolutely trusting of a stranger both stupid, yet endearing. because he's no more stranger, and heaven bless him because he's so glad he's the person who approached you rather than anyone else because you looked so cute, and his crush on you may have lead him to stalk you occasionally just to ensure you're safe— that doesn't erase the gesture that he did it purely because gotham is too dangerous for your own good. and he's glad he trusted his human side of intuition, rationalizing with himself that today just seems to be the day you'd bump into danger if he's not there.

you're so stunning up close... how come tim never once found interest in someone as admirable as you is a mystery. but you trusting a stranger in your vulnerable state is much more.

and he's grateful he's that stranger.

because he may be a stranger to you, but a familiar one. and you feel safe, a feeling you haven't felt in so long that you simply just melt against him like clear putty; because you're transparent with what you feel right now.

and right now you feel warmth. not the uncomfortable one that blazes through your (now) cool face when you were drunk, nor the burning one whenever you thought of your family— but a pleasant one. like sitting near a fireplace as you watch the embers crackle, drinking hot cocoa whilst a quilt covers your body from the cold of the winter. you feel this way at his kindness, at his efforts to help you contain your emotions to a reasonable degree.

"what's your name, kind stranger?" you mutter on his chest (how come your head is laying on it, actually?) hearing the soft thumps of his heart. it's warm, he's warm and every bit of comfortable, as he does his best to move slightly back to remove his jacket and drape it over your body before he could reply to you, chuckling whilst doing so because you looked up at him with your eyes conveying every damn emotion that made you feel soft.

"it's conner, conner kent. call me kon, though. or yours if it's you." he purrs. it took you a minute to register his obvious flirting but what comes after is an absolute flush on your body and you recoiling from his hold as you look back at him, mouth agape. the tips of your ears were warm, and every bit of

an overexaggeration to his flirting, sure. it makes you look less appealing in your eyes, extra sure! but it's been so long since someone last attempted to flirt with you; but most were under the guise of when you were still a wayne and... and not as yourself. you! you who sports so many imperfections that—

"haha! is it strange to say that you look so cute whenever you look at me with wide eyes in the short span of time we just met?"

he slides in through your train of thoughts before you could delve even deeper through self-deprecation. and you're glad that he did because... god, he makes you want to shamelessly gloat as a reply. you've never had someone complement your eyes before, actually...

"i'm..." you look back at him after you stared down at your palms, heat overtaking your entire body. yet again it wasn't uncomfortable, and just the right temperature. you stutter your name afterwards, making sure it's your mother's last name that you highlighted implicitly and not bruce's.

he seems to grin even wider when you introduce yourself. that's when his next reply generally warranted you to nearly burst off your seat out of sheer diffidence.

"well," he says your name, tasting every syllable in his pierced tongue. "your name tastes sweet, dove. but i think your face is even sweeter now that you're not crying — not saying that isn't cute too but you're so stunning now that i look closer at you without any barriers. your eyes, especially, they're like some mix doe and siren eyes, or whatever my other friends talk about in social media. point given, you're drop-dead gorgeous in my eyes."

it all comes naturally from him that your brain merely shortcircuited and fried itself comprehending his message, forgetting you were drunk in the first place replacing it with a flush in your heart, the pit of grief and despair replaced with the lighthearted need to banter or reply meekly at his shameless flirting right after he comforted you.

this is the first time you felt something for someone's romantic gestures, instead of that wave of nausea that accompanies you.

he makes you feel... pretty about yourself. in a good way, in a way you don't feel the need to hide your insecurities for once and instead allow his eyes to flitter around your entire face, analyzing your features because... because he simply makes you feel pretty the more he stares at you.

yet all you did was take his hand on your own, a sudden burst of confidence even you couldn't explain, and played with it, as you pouted in reply before thinking— using his hand-now-turned-fidget-toy — of a good enough response.

you simply said, coughing before continuing, "i don't take back what i said moment's ago. you're hot too, even if my vision was obstructed by my tears."

"oh, really?" he smiled gently and allowed your hands autonomy to play with his. it's like telepathy, he knows it's automatic that you crave physical affection and attention and he's willing to provide you that solace.

"now that you're not crying— you think i'm even more handsome?"

you snort at his question, then took a step back with your thoughts to properly study him. neat, yet messy hair, piercing on the eyebrows and on his tongue (hot), sunglasses and spiky jacket draped upon your shoulders— goddamnit, of course he's hot! and you made it efficiently clear that he is, with your hands fiddling pattern against his soft, yet calloused hands, by squeezing it.

"yes, you are even more handsome, kon..." brief and concise, just how you like it. even if he gave you an entire essay describing you in his eyes, for you, you prefer actions; and you did so by simply being affectionate with the stranger, now acquaintance you have a slight crush on.

you'd never expected this turn of events, but it was a pleasant one and one you'd never really want to trade with anything else now that you've met kon.

so when he opened his mouth to spew something else, your ears perked up to listen and your mind, albeit slowly sobering up, prepared itself to reply to whatever flirting, conversation topics, and anything random it is that he wishes to talk about to you.

you smiled at him whilst he talked, he reciprocates as always.

yet this time, you weren't afraid to hide just how joyous you feel, for once, having a person interested in you not only physically but with your interests, too, as your conversations kept shifting to things about you.

it made inclined to learn about yourself, too. and that makes you happy, and fuzzy in the insides the more he asks you questions beyond your favorites. like in movies, he didn't simply just ask your favorites and you replied with an answer and moved on, no! you both discussed the emotional depth it impacted you with, why symbolism matters so much, and why in the near future you'd both inevitably meet up, you'll both watch it together.

that makes you feel excited.

you even forgot the main reason why you're here in the first place; to drink. now, though, it seems like you just wanted to talk to kon all night long.

fortunately for you, that's how the rest of your night went. with a pleasant buzz in the background, the sounds of remixes all drowned out in your ears as you favor the chatters of the man beside you, with the tremor of his voice a comfortable volume and his tone laced with freshly made honey.

when your friends finally ran back to the bar where you all collectively agreed to meet up at once everyone's shenanigans were finished, they giggled drunkenly whilst some sober ones whistled at seeing your hand unknowingly massaging his palms like a stresstoy and the jacket draped upon your shoulders.

the moment you returned it to him, he joked about wearing it every second now since it reminds him of you, and how it's his favorite piece of attire now beyond all his other clothing. you merely blushed and ignored the cooing of your friends behind you.

you didn't feel concerned over not seeing him anymore, as he had given you a slip of paper with his number on it in through a tissue with paracetamol pills wrapped around it (like the thoughtful gentleman he made himself out to be when he excused himself a second time to get those items, since you'd left your phone with one of your friends; you swore you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and heating the tip of your ears), you instead felt a pang of longing and furrowed your brows, looking at him as if asking if you'll see him around anytime soon as he reciprocates with a sure grin that makes you feel a wave of feather like affection.

he left shortly after, striding to you as your group recollects all your stuff and whispering a, "text you later, dove. stay safe for me, alright? don't let any other strangers get to you."

you're glad this night would end on a good note, willing away any prior doubts towards spending the night in a completely foreign street and expecting fir criminals and thugs to break in but no! you can't help but admit that your new... interest, conner, made your night a thousand times better.

and his little nickname for you... haha, you're so flustered thinking about texting him tonight. you'd neglect your assignments for now if it meant messenging him right after you get home, safely, for his sake.

when your group all came outside though, that's when things shifted.

time is a construct. it's complicated and structured like that as well. it can either be too fast, or too slow. when your friends had taken their sweet time to spend the night dancing about the dancefloor, when you'd taken the precious time to flirt and talk to kon; that's when you all collectively realized that their damn cars were stolen.

the air suddenly shifted to this thick atmosphere when you all stepped out, one that can be sliced through with a sword, and you swore—

god, you swore this night couldn't have been any better with the turn of things, but now. right after you got out the club, it all took a turn for the worse.

this is it.

you're going to die today.

you're going to die, in some dirty ditch, your friends nowhere to be found, with nobody to save you.

nasty bruises already began to form on your skin, one with harsher colors of purple, blue, and yellow on your wrists and other patches of skin; way harsher

the man in front of you was gnarly, but you've no time to judge as he kicks you in the guts.

matted brown hair lay atop his head like a bird's attempt at a near, he has an odor that reeks of sewer rats, piss, and feces, and an unruly beard that houses bits of his leftover.

he holds a weapon whose shape you couldn't make out with your hazy vision, body nearly cramping in on itself once he kicked you again.

straight in the abdomen, with brute strenght accompanied by his worn leather boots decorated with glinting spikes that sparkle under the moonlight's glow.

in the abdomen, spikes.

blood first, then curdling pain next.

no noise rips through your ears, only wringing ever present, but your mouth opens, and you can feel its tender chords crack as a scream erupts from your throat, shrill and resounding from the deepest depths of the cockpit your mouth has to offer you; uncaring for the man in front of who who suddenly covers his ears and grits his teeth, who looks at you like you're mad, yet unlike same way his two other lackeys from behind look at your like you're the creation of carnage itself.

pain shot throughout your body, most especially at the core of the holes that pierced through your clothes and right inside your skin. and as your bulging, teary eyes try to look down with an agape, whimpering mouth, his shoes still connected to your body; you could only hold off so much of that familiar taste of acidic bile paired with that lingering scent of cheap booze.

tears were a byproduct of the misery, as it began to escape from your already puffy eyes. when the man released his legs fron pinning you down, your sobs only worsened as your unpinned, shivering arm try its damned best to cover the already leaking blood.

six holes, the diameter of the more than half of your finger, was what you could make out in your line of sight. the blood that leaked from them looked black, you couldn't find where the gradient of black and red connects, your only certainty in this situation was that you'd bleed to death before help could come to you.

the spikes were as long as a toothpick, a crimson puddle lay dripping on the floor.

your legs were shaking against your will, your eyes frantically search around you yet your pinned once more, his larger body framing against your own, providing no room nor qualms for an escape.

but the only escape you wanted was one from the pain of his pressing against your injury, even more blood spilling out of its confines. your tears only hastened its descent from your shaky eyes.

when your mouth opened for the nth time to wail out, he seethed in a breathe and threatened you, with his breath as vile as his entire being, that smells like every mix of synthetic chemicals from cigarette flavors, all expired, with teeth rotting and sporting yellow and black wallpaper.

gross, so gross. you want to die when the stench hits your nose. you shrivel in yourself, you couldn't breath.

"listen here, little bitch, you quiet down or i kill you. and 'ya either give me everythin' you own in your damn possession, or i'll kick you even more until a thousand little holes will fuckin' make you bleed to death, hear me?"

hearing his statement only made the adrenaline pump even more fight of flight into your heart. but you can't do either, you can't, not when you're still hazy from the fucking alcohol and the self defense tools in your tiny pouch were thrown a few feet away from you.

you've nothing to defend yourself.

oh god, oh shit, fuck.

you want to die, you want to so fucking die than go through the same pain of nearly being abducted or held hostage again.

yet your eyes could only close, your teeth kissing your bottom lips, biting hard to drown out another pained scream. whimpers, god, they're so loud yet you can't help the whimpers and the broken faucet from your eyes. even if you beg your own body to stop, it doesn't listen to the pleas of your mind.

the only thing it can focus on is the pain. recreant, volatile pain.

a moan escapes you, shaky and prolonged. the only other emotion that you could experience after is sorrow.

you didn't expect your pleasant night to end off in such a tragic note, but as your attacker held you by your throat with one hand, a knife pointed against your face, the next that happened was your head slammed roughly against the wall; a dull, beating ache lulling the back of your head after the momentary spark of pain— you're reminded that this is reality, and you're close to losing consciousness quick.

you're going to die.

bloody, a sobbing, dissociating mess, with your thoughts spinning around the same way the stranger and his lackeys laugh — bared yellow teeth, with the smell of ichor prevalent in their clothes, predatory eyes leering at you like you're prey — at your drunken moans of pain.

you're going to die.

"well, you gonna answer me or what, bitch? you wanna die!?"

he shouts you with spit that sprays all over your face, flashing you a grin and by extension flashing you his ugly, bared teeth. some missing were in his gums, others were artificial, most rotten like him.

you're going to die.

alone, in a ditch. bloody, laying in a pool of your own crimson the same way you saw your mother drowns in a puddle of hers.

you'll die like her—

what an honor.

the more you think about the situation, the more you're led to believe that the only way to solve this was through death alone, with no restrictions, no buts or ifs. you've no fight left in your body, or any weapon to fight. you're drunk, defenseless and if you actually managed to escape, you'd still bleed to death in some unknown alleyway. if you're lucky, a stray police may find you and give you a proper burial. but you remember you're in the living incarnate of hell in america, you'll never have a proper death.

this was night in gotham. your death alone only adds to the already astounding high percentages of all the other lives lost to the same twisted fate. you were no different. and to die early than to suffer from torture is better.

i mean, who would give a shit if you die tonight, right? your family— wrong! alfred would panic at your disappearance, but he'll forget about you like he did others, you're sure of it. that's why he still chose to fucking serve the wayne's instead of fully taking your side. if he had to choose between saving you or the people he swore his loyalty onto, he wouldn't hesitate. you're sure. even if the thoughts made the doom in your heart heavier. even if you know your story would never be covered nor acknowledged, you still year

but life is unfair, everything is. that's why you're here now, in a dark fucking alleyway with men who'll more than take advantage of your dying body and leave your corpse in the dump after. life is unfair, yet it's even more cruel in gotham. you should've expected this, should've known that a turn of events could be possible. you'll feel regret in the afterlife, only for a life that could've been well-lived, but never for the choice of living through the torture you call being a wayne.

so you came to the conclusion; confident for once after living for thirteen and a half years walking on eggshells around a manor.

this is not as bad as their neglect.

you smile in response to the guy, genuine and filled with grace as your heart that once pounds against your chest now slows down to a calm pace, finally at peace. with no other intention than to rattle him even more, to the point of choosing you to kill with his own hands as brutally as he likes— so you finally take a well deserved rest from life.

you gather saliva at the center of your tongue, ignore the taste of blood that swirls, nor the soreness of your throat and the crimson dripping down your nose.

when he looks down at you, disoriented at what you're doing, you spit at him, all the beating in your heart hastened, yet slowed down as quickly as you heave in a final breath.

... you're finally going to die.

"FUCKING HELL, YOU DAMN CUNT—!"

you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the knife that would hopefully stab you in the face, or the chest, and think of your last thoughts. you thank alfred for caring for you for those thirteen years, you hope you win your mother's graces in the afterlife even if she discovered your deliberate choices for killing yourself in the spur of a moment, and you wish your old family a happy life living without you, even if they already did so for so long.

all you needed was seconds to conclude your prayers.

but they weren't answered as you wanted them to be, not when you open your wide eyes to what was supposed to be a glint of silver piercing through the middle of your face was replaced by a bullet, quick and precise, shooting through his cranium without mercy, body immediately laying limp within those seconds.

the other two behind him were good as dead, too, your savior not wasting any moment to end their lives then and there.

and as you stumbled from the grip released from your body, your torso nearly crumpling in on itself, a flash of familiar, metallic red enters your vision when you'd look up from your savior who's huge form now meticulously acts as your shield from the brutal carnage that lays upon your line of sight and a pillar of protection trying to help you stand from the pain that shot through your lower abdomen.

but you don't want to stand, you want to drop dead right now. you don't want this, you didn't want this to happen.

instead of gratitude, dread fills your lungs with water and your fingers were left to tremor.

he looks down at you, you couldn't make out his expression, but you could feel the anger coursing through his body, the same as the day you first met him when he was still newly rebirthed, like it's telling you of his unadulterated rage at witnessing the scene before him. his body shakes, heavily, and his grip on your hands tighten, a mechanical groan drawling deep from his automated voice banks that changes his voice.

yet all you feel was fear overtaking your entire body prior to the comfort at the prospect of death.

you'd rather die than this.

even you couldn't believe the whimper of his name from your wobbling lips, as your body, out of instinct despite the pain, tried to push itself against the wall, away from him.

he only moves to hold your waste protectively, like a... brother suffocating his younger sibling with blankets when they complain it's cold. overbearing, disgustingly affectionate; you don't want it.

you feel cold.

this day could've been any worse— and it took a turn to the all worse scenarios you could imagine.

"jason...?"

"angel..."

a single familiar name was spoken, yet a new nickname was introduced. angel: the same way jason swore what you looked like when he sped through his motorcycle after hearing a shriek from all across the streets, finding you, bleeding and beaten to a pulp, with your attacker almost stabbing you.

of course, who wouldn't hesitate pulling a gun against someone trying to kill your precious? jason doesn't even need to choose.

and whether he did it in the name of justice and respect to his moral code, or because finding someone with a familiar face, sharing the same hopeless, yet death-accepting expression as he did back when he died— it all doesn't matter in the heat of the moment now.

what matters is that his angel is hurt and the madness in him festers the longer you bleed out in his arms, defiant and fearful all the same.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

PLEASE READ: 11,000+ words. AND I LITERALLY HATE THIS CHAPTER (new least favorite fr) 😭 this decision is so impulsive i gonna regret it soon. chapter 5 will be released after a few days and i promise it has more action than this I SWEAR. first parts are always boring. anyways, there're so many song references in this chapter and for the next chapter. if any of you could guess what they are, i'll be rewarding all of you with something special. otherwise, please leave comments for this chapter! what motivated me to write was reading everybody's comments and inputs, about the love they have for this series as much as i do. interactions, asks, comments, they're all important and dear to me and i heavily appreciate it. so more interaction = more content. after all, i'd rather a post with little likes but with no interaction than a post with no interaction but all likes.

otherwise, i can't add anymore to my taglist so taglist requests are closed!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku , @okaybutfullhomo , @trasshy-artist , @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa , @ilovvmyhusband , @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony , @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts , @darling006 , @starringyau , @samanthahanes, @rosecentury , @jaythes1mp , @pi1nkl0ver , @i-thirsty-boy, @sharks-are-cool-l, @silverklaus, @traumaramacenter , @maddimoon , @anxrq, @thedarknesslord , @h0rr0r-10ver-69 , @lazy-idate , @cupids-pretty-boy , @alishii, @mel-star636 , @sitepathos , @freakyotaku059-blog , @dirtydiavolo, @sunbleachedantlers, @24hrsoflanii, @ceramic-raven , @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit , @tdickensstuff4 , @thickerthanthieves , @arlandvery , @distressed-lezbo, @bunbunboysworld , @bellethesleepypotato, @nebuluma, @alliwantisadonut, @alishii, @kusakiguzen, @sirenetheblogger, @emmbny, @ryukyuin, @solkara, @starsdotalk, @nightstarblue, @huhuhhuhh, @shadowpup163, @sunshine-skz, @24hrsoflanii, @bazellawrites, @pato-spoiler-27, @harumy07cat, @rains-mae, @funnybunnyxxx, @littlelilithspost, @howisgroguthiscute, @yuyuzi-ling, @tullipam, @coldcrusadehideout, @princessloveweird, @hybridcon

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flovverworks · 1 year ago

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(touches ground) something happened here

#stardust speaking !#USVDNSKSKSIEBRKWKDKDKSK ME WITH ONLY 2 NOTIFS IN MY NOTIFS VS OPENING TUMBLR #actually 2 of those r bibi that i havent replied to yet #good morning i had a dream percival got like 25 vday episodes of 1-minutes each. which i kept being like #yeah that checks out since its percy (he has some Rly long seasonals) & the percy fan on their writing team but still what the hell cygames #like it was an entire tiny PLOT yknow. will not go into details thats embarrassing #anyway i love coming back to a billion msgs its always like. i KNOW what happened (its the msgs i got in notifs) and they r hilarious #i love this LMFAAOOOOOOOOOO

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ms-demeanor · 2 months ago

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Since July (when the business I work for got acquired by a larger company) I've been doing a LOT more work and have been under a lot more stress and have been a lot more tired.

I have also said the words "I'm severely underpaid and we need to fix this" to at least three people from the c-suite and have been assured that nobody has forgotten that and that's on the agenda.

It's great that that's on the agenda but I keep having to choose between buying a mattress that doesn't hurt and paying power bills and it has been five months. (I got paid about a thousand dollars for a side project recently so this is no longer a choice that has me over a barrel but also it's not a choice I should have been struggling with given the size of the company I'm now working for and my tremendously increased workload)

All of which is background for the fact that I am applying for jobs and have been spending an unconscionable amount of time on LinkedIn (which is, like, eighty times more soul-crushing than I had realized; it is fucking grim on that website).

Because applying for jobs is a nightmare and because it is totally normal to apply for approximately a million jobs before you hear back from one, I have made up a tiny, miserable RPG to play to track my applications and I figure every time I "die" in the game I'll do something nice for myself like burn a vacation day or get takeout.

Anyway, here are the rules for playing Labor Quest:

Player starts with 100 HP; interactions with the Job Board determine player health over time.

Applying for a position: +1hp

Response: (call or email): +2hp

Interview: +10hp

Rejection: -10hp

Ghosting (1 month silence): -2hp

You die when you get to 0 points.

I'm playing very slowly because I do at least have a stable job with benefits so I'm not putting in more than a few applications a week and I'm currently at a score of 93. I've been ghosted by a landscaping company that was looking for a receptionist (and that I had to do an indeed skills test for to apply) and rejected by an extremely scammy ghostwriting company that I mostly replied to just to see what would happen (it's the writing company from the Dan Olsen "Contreprenuers" video). I suspect that I'm going to lose a lot of HP through ghostings in the coming week (I only wrote this out as a game in October so I haven't been tracking ghostings more than a month).

I'm considering adding modifiers like "reconfiguring entire resume for one submission," "taking skills tests," and "writing a goddamned cover letter," "spending > 1hr on LinkedIn in a 24hr period" that would also impact player HP.

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amirasainz · 2 months ago

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Hi queen. Can you please write for little alonso one, where she is still pretty young and mostly hanging out with the spanish speaking drivers (please include Franco♥️) and one of the others accidentally uses a english cuss word in front of her and she repeats it. Thank youuuuu.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

La Niña del Paddock

The Formula 1 paddock was always alive with energy, the hum of engines, and the chatter of mechanics filling the air. Today, however, it had an extra spark of excitement. Two-year-old Yn Alonso was in attendance, her tiny form dressed in a summer outfit and her hair in two braids.

Clinging to her father’s hand, Yn looked around the bustling paddock with wide eyes. She was shy, clutching tightly to Fernando's leg every time someone tried to say hello. Not that most of them could converse with her—she only spoke Spanish, and her vocabulary was still that of a toddler.

"Papá, quiero un jugo," she murmured, tugging at his hand. ("Papa, I want juice.")

Fernando crouched to her level, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Después, mi amor. Ahora papá tiene que trabajar, ¿vale? Carlos te cuidará por un rato." ("Later, my love. Right now, papá has to work, okay? Carlos will look after you for a while.")

Yn pouted but nodded solemnly, her grip loosening as Carlos approached with a big grin. "¡Hola, princesa! ¿Lista para pasar un buen rato con el mejor babysitter del mundo?" ("Hello, princess! Ready to spend some time with the best babysitter in the world?")

Yn tilted her head, studying Carlos. “¿Eres mejor que Papá?” ("Are you better than Papa?")

Carlos laughed, scooping her up. "Por supuesto que no, pero soy el segundo mejor." ("Of course not, but I’m the second best.")

---

Carlos wasn’t alone in his efforts. Franco and Sergio often joined in, creating a small team of Spanish-speaking drivers who adored Yn. Today, as Carlos carried Yn through the paddock, they encountered Checo, who immediately lit up.

"¡Ahí está mi amiga pequeña! ¿Cómo estás, Yn?" ("There’s my little friend! How are you, Yn?")

"Quiero jugo," Yn replied seriously, causing both men to laugh. ("I want juice.")

“Ya veo que sabes lo que quieres,” Checo teased, ruffling her hair. "Ven, vamos a buscar uno." ("I see you know what you want. Come, let’s go find one.")

As they headed to the hospitality area, they ran into Charles, who, while not fluent in Spanish, had picked up a few phrases. He knelt to Yn’s level. "Hola, Yn. ¿Cómo… cómo estás?"

Yn hid her face in Carlos’s shoulder, making Charles frown.

"She is shy," Carlos explained with a shrug. "But you can try."

Charles smiled softly. "¿Quieres… jugo? ¿O… un helado?" ("Do you want… juice? Or… ice cream?")

At the mention of ice cream, Yn peeked out, nodding eagerly. "Helado."

“That was easy!" Charles laughed, standing up and joining the group as they searched for treats.

---

Other drivers began to notice how much time Yn spent with the Spanish-speaking contingent, sparking a mix of amusement and envy.

"Why does she never come to us?" Lando complained to Max, watching as Yn giggled in Franco’s arms.

"Maybe because she doesn’t understand you," Max replied with a smirk.

"But she’s so cute! Look at her little cheeks!” Lando exclaimed. “I want a turn."

“Good luck with that,” Max muttered, though he was secretly curious too.

---

Eventually, Yn’s circle expanded, and she found herself surrounded by other drivers who, despite the language barrier, adored her. George was attempting to teach her a clapping game, while Lewis showed her pictures of his dog Roscoe. Everything was going smoothly until Max stupped his toe and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Fuck," he said, slapping his thigh.

Yn, ever the sponge, tilted her head. "Fuck."

Silence fell over the group. George gasped, and Lewis froze mid-sentence.

"Max," Lando hissed. "What did you just do?"

“It wasn’t my fault!” Max said, panicking. “She’s too quick!”

"Fuck," Yn repeated, smiling as if she’d learned a new toy.

“Nonononono,” Charles said, rushing over. "Yn, don't say that. Es malo. Muy malo." (" It’s bad. Very bad.")

"¿Por qué?" Yn asked innocently, looking up at him. ("Why?")

Checo appeared just in time, his eyes wide as he realized what was happening. "What happened?"

“She heard Max swear,” George explained, flailing his arms.

Checo groaned. "¡Ay no! If Fernando finds out, we're dead."

---

Despite their frantic efforts to distract her with other words, Yn’s new phrase stuck. When Fernando finally returned from his duties, Yn ran to him, arms outstretched.

"¡Papá!"

"¡Mi niña! ¿Te portaste bien?" Fernando asked, lifting her into his arms. ("My girl! Were you well-behaved?")

Yn beamed at him, her tiny voice ringing out. "Fuck!"

Fernando froze. The drivers around them collectively held their breath, some looking ready to bolt.

Then Fernando threw his head back and laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the paddock. "¡Eres toda una Alonso, mi amor!" ("You’re a true Alonso, my love!")

Checo wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. "We're saved…"

Fernando looked at the guilty group, smirking. "But if it happens again, you all will be to blame."

Yn, unaware of the chaos she had caused, snuggled into her father’s chest, content as ever. And the paddock? They had learned their lesson: don’t teach a toddler new words unless you’re ready to face the consequences.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#little alonso #fernando alonso x alonso!reader #fernando alonso x daughter!reader #fernando alonso x reader #carlos sainz x reader #franco colapinto x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #dad!fernando alonso #alonso!reader

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

hello!

Could you maybe do poly!marauders x reader and the boys discovering she has a major praise kink!

It doesn’t have to be smutty or it can be whatever you think!!

(ps: you are such an amazing author and the way you write the marauders together and their personalities is impeccable 💋)

This was fun and funny, thanks for requesting!

cw: praise kink, suggestive ending (no smut)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus makes a soft hissing sound. “Is that how you always chop onions?”

You look at him sideways. “With a knife? Yes.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he says, smiling. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

You look down at your cutting board, still chopping but now bemused. “I don’t plan on it.”

James, who’s appeared over your shoulder, makes a similar sound, hissing through his teeth. “No, sweetheart.” He places his hand over yours on the handle of the knife, silently prompting you to stop. “Rem’s right, you’re going to lose the tips of your fingers.”

You feel a tad defensive of your chopping skills. “I’ve managed to keep them all ‘til now. What am I doing wrong?”

“Here, let me.” James eases the knife from your grip, squishing in alongside you in front of the cutting board and taking your onion. “See, you want to curl your fingers in a tiny bit so the knife skims off them. Like a claw.”

You lean over, peering at his hand. “It looks hard to keep a grip like that.”

“It takes a bit of practice,” he allows. James slices through the onion a few times with smooth, easy motions, then passes the knife back to you. “Give it a try.”

You try to hold the onion the way he had, looking at James for approval. He taps your pinkie finger, getting you to curl that one a bit more, before smiling at you.

“There you go. That’s good, now try cutting down your knuckles.”

“This feels scarier than my way,” you admit, though you do as he says, skimming the knife down your knuckles and slicing through the onion slowly.

“No, you’ve got it,” James praises. “That’s really good, angel. You’re a natural.”

Your cheeks are starting to warm from all the compliments. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice.

“Don’t go getting shy,” says Sirius, coming in to steal a dry pasta noodle from Remus. He bites down on it with a crack that makes James grimace. “You were so vocal about how you knew the proper way a minute ago.”

“I still like my way better,” you say, recovering some.

“Right, well do it this way for our peace of mind, would you?” James’ hand warms the small of your back as he watches you work. “You have very pretty fingers, and I don’t think I’m being too presumptuous in saying that we all like them too much to risk it. Plus, you’ve picked it up so quickly.”

The heat from your face spreads lower. It’s all you can do to squeak out a meek “okay.” You’re grateful when James leaves to return to his own task.

A minute later, Remus comes over to check that you’re doing what you’re supposed to. He hums approvingly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. All the air in your lungs dries up. “Thank you, darling. That looks great.”

“She learned from the best,” James quips.

Remus hums and kisses his hair too before turning back to his work. It’s only a handful of seconds before they realize you’ve not replied.

“Dove?” Remus looks at you.

“Hm?” you hum tightly.

“You alright?”

“Mhm.”

James and Sirius have turned to look now, too. You keep your face downturned to the cutting board, but you can feel the weight of three curious stares on the back of your head. Sirius prowls over to you like a cat, taking you by the shoulders and turning you slowly.

“Humor me for a moment?” he asks, smirking. “I want to test a theory.”

You’re wound too tightly by this point to respond, his smug teasing pushing you to the edges of sanity. You barely have the wherewithal to set your knife down carefully behind you.

Your boyfriend’s cold hands find your warm face, shit-eating grin only spreading as he takes his time feeling about your cheeks with his knuckles and fingers. Sirius isn’t always the most perceptive of your boyfriends, but unfortunately, humiliatingly, he’s the first to unravel this particular mystery.

He asks smoothly, “Do you like it when we tell you how good you are, pretty girl?”

You’re not sure if he can actually feel the flare of heat to your face at the words, but something about your expression must confirm it. Sirius laughs gleefully.

“Awe, angel.” James comes over to wrap his arms around you from the side, also laughing. “I didn’t know we were winding you up when we talked like that. I was just trying to compliment what a quick learner you are.”

“She is a quick learner,” Sirius says in a salacious tone. “You always follow instructions well, don’t you, gorgeous?”

“Stop,” you plead, covering your face with your hands and forcing Sirius to move his. All three of your boyfriends snicker, James pressing a conciliatory kiss to your burning ear. “It’s not like it happens all the time, you’re just being so much right now. You can’t just call someone—call them—”

“A good girl?” Remus asks you, and you don’t think he’s putting on a tone like Sirius is, you really don’t, but his regular voice is already so nearly pornographic that the heat in your core spreads anyway.

“Right,” you say weakly.

Remus chuckles. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sweetheart. Sorry if I put you in an…uncomfortable position.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Sirius is giddy, smugness dialed up to eleven. “This is a revelation. Just think what we could do with this. You’ve given us all a gift, babe.”

“Oh, our poor girl,” James laughs when you try to hide your face in his shoulder. “Sirius is right, this is good! It’s always good for us to know what you like, right?”

You’re too flustered to reply, but Remus agrees for you, humming contemplatively.

“You know,” he says, “if I leave this to simmer for a while, we could make it up to you now, dove. I’d feel awful if I wound you up without giving you any payoff.”

His tone implies he’s at least partly joking, but Sirius doesn’t take it that way. He has you all in the bedroom in thirty seconds flat, your chopping left to wait for your return.

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promisingyounglady · 11 months ago

Text

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

4K notes · View notes

sturnsdarling · 5 months ago

Text

'Stay the fuck away from her'

{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.

vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)

1.6k words

A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE

love and cigs, merc

The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.

Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.

Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.

You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.

"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.

"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother

you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.

"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.

Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.

"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.

He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.

"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.

Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.

Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.

Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.

"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.

"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.

He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.

"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.

The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.

You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.

"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.

"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.

Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.

Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.

The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.

"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.

The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.

"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.

Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.

"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.

Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.

When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.

"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.

"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.

Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.

You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.

"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.

"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.

"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.

"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.

you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.

"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.

Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.

You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.

"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"

"I'm important to you?" you cheesed

"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.

"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.

You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

#©sturnsdarling #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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rafecameronsleftbicep · 3 months ago

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want more, rafe cameron

When reader and Rafe have been sneaking around with each other for the last two months, y/n can't help but want more. Bringing this up with him, she's under the impression he's embarrassed to be seen with a pogue.

warnings: swearing, insecurities, arguing, mentions of sex, angst, always a sucker for a happy ending though, it's a looong one <33

pairing: rafe cameron x fwbpogue!reader

Y/n was sat on the little bench outside her small home, right by the water as the wind blew through her hair. Her knees were tucked up to her chin as the kook boy who usually plagued her thoughts did just that, sink into her mind.

It was never meant to be more than a good time, something to pass the summer. He made her feel good - in more ways than one - he would take her out on dates, whisper sweet words to her, and the way he looked at her. She could swear he was in love, that he was just as infatuated with her as she was him. But the way he only took her to private and secluded places, the way his words were the most affectionate when he was deep inside her, the way he would put space between them whenever he saw someone he recognised. These small things, things he may not even realise he does, they all reminded her that she wasn't anything to him. He would never let himself fully be hers, he could never let his reputation fall like that.

He gave her just enough that she felt completely and utterly consumed by him. Craved his attention, his touch, even a small message would complete her day. However, as time went on she knew she needed more, she knew that she couldn't bear much more before she completely lost herself to please him.

"Come over" The message catches her attention, the illuminated screen laying on the bench beside her pulling her from her wandering thoughts.

She knew the message was from Rafe before her eyes even flicked to the screen, she never really had anyone else calling on her. It wasn't that she didn't have any friends, but she wasn't one to go out and the friends she kept knew that.

A couple weeks ago, she would've been on her way to his before she could even start replying, no thought needed except the thought of being in his proximity. Now, however, she was tired. Tired and sad, feeling pathetic really after spending so long thinking about him.

"feeling tired tonight. sorry, rafe" She replies slowly, her heart pounding as she sends it. She turns her phone back off, yet before she can place her phone back down her screen lights up with another message from him.

"Please, baby. I need you" He responds, her heart sinks. She doesn't know how much more she can stand up for herself, fighting that craving feeling she has for him.

"not in the mood rn tbh" She tries to stay strong, holding onto that tiny bit of dignity she has left in her.

"Don't even need to fuck"

"Just wanna be close to you"

Her heart pounds faster and her breathing is shaky. Fingers hovering over her illuminated screen. Every possible message she could write spinning though her head.

"you can come over then" She types out, deletes and types out again. She had never been so unsure in herself before, never doubted her own thoughts like this. But she sends it, stopping herself from contemplating and worrying further.

Rafe had been to her place a couple of times before, only ever to pick her up. Each visit shorter than the last, hurrying to leave as if humiliated to be caught in such a place. It made her feel ashamed of who she was, how she grew up and she felt even more embarrassed that she let a guy make her feel so insecure about something that could never change, something that literally made her who she was.

"Coming" The phone lights up for a last time in her hands and when her eyes run over the message she is filled with surprise and even more shame as her heart warms for him. She knows that him visiting her is the bare minimum. That being able to step foot in the place she calls home should not be seen as a difficult task. But she feels happy that he's coming to see her because he wants to.

She sits with her pathetic thoughts as she waits for him. Curling up on the bench as she watches the way the pearly moonlight glimmers across the waves perfectly. The soft wind sending chills down her spine and strands of her hair across her face.

"Y/n?" She hears his voice call out and for a moment she feels like she's lost hers. "Baby?"

"Yeah, around here" She replies softly as she sees him bend round the corner of her home. She has a tiny smile on her face, never fully reaching her eyes.

"Something wrong, pretty girl?" He mutters softly as he moves to sit next to her on the bench. He's dressed in sweats and she can only assume he's been relaxing at home prior to coming over. He gently takes her bare legs and slides them onto his lap. He can't help but let his eyes rake over her perfect body. The way she looks so small in his shirt he must've let her borrow once and some pyjama shorts. Yet for the first time, he puts aside his vulgar thoughts because he can tell she's unhappy.

Her eyes look into his, the way he's cracked open her feelings so easily, reading her like a book despite keeping a wall up of his own. Her breath shaky again as she gives a small shrug, her eyes dropping down to his hands. The way his thumb gently runs back and forth over her knee.

"Talk to me" He says softly, the crease between his brows deepening as he loses her gaze.

"Do you even care?" She voices gently. Not looking at him, to maintain the little power she has left over herself.

"What?" He mumbles with confusion, his body straightening up as he didn't expect such blunt thoughts from her.

"Do you even care that I'm upset? Or what I'm upset about?" She mumbles a bit louder as her gaze moves back over to the glistening waves ahead of them.

"O-of course I do, I don't understand?" He mutters as his thumb stops the stroking and instead slides to her chin, moving her face to look at him.

"I mean we aren't dating, and it feels like you've never really cared about how I feel outside the sex." She tells him for the first time. The tension feels suffocating, yet at the same time the weight off her shoulders is so liberating.

"That's what you think?" He asks her, a strong tone of annoyance or maybe disappointment.

The eye contact between them so intense that she feels as though she needs to take a deep breath before replying or she might pass out. "That's exactly how it feels." She admits gently with a shrug.

"That's not what this is." He says firmly, shaking his head as his hand slips off her chin and runs down his face with a huff.

"You're embarrassed to be seen with me. Face it, Rafe. It's not like we're dating. You only keep me around for a good fuck." She says shakily, running off adrenaline and the fact that there's no use stopping now that she's started.

"You don't embarrass me, I'm just not ready to make things official." He tells her unwaveringly, yet his eyes darting towards the water, the ground, her. Everything about his body and words make him seem so secure in himself. Yet his eyes express all his true emotions, how hesitant and insecure he really feels.

"God, Rafe. You can barely be seen with me, and I can't bear to be just some girl you fuck and take out secretly." She tells him, her throat feeling scratchy and sore as her eyes water lightly. She curses herself for getting so emotional, it wasn't even that serious yet she couldn't keep herself together.

His heart breaks, pained as she expresses her feelings to him, pained as he watches her fall apart in front of him. "I'm sorry for making you feel that way." He mutters gently.

"Don't be. You never promised me anything more than what you've given me." She shakes her head gently, as her eyes look at the side of his face.

"I want to give you more, I want to promise you the world." He whispers with his head in his hands.

"I can't continue feeling like this, Rafe." She tells him softly, "I can't handle craving you privately."

"I didn't know you felt like this..." He replies shamefully, his hands sliding down his face as he turns to look at her with torment. His eyes are glossy and his jaw is clenched, he doesn't know what there is to say to make this better.

"Don't bullshit." She mumble with a soft frown, not believing for a second that he didn't know she was completely infatuated with him.

"No, y/n. I mean it. I've... I feel for you. And I don't know how to handle it, express it. Fuck. I'm a mess, baby." He spills to her helplessly. "If I knew how I was hurting you, I would've done something, said something. I just- it's so difficult for me." His voice rasps and cracks unsteadily.

She doesn't know what to say, heart pounding as she watches his sincerity. She fiddles with her fingers anxiously as she tries to think of anything to reply with.

"Please believe me, pretty girl" He practically whimpers, his hands itching to feel her near him.

"What are we gonna do?" She whispers as she looks down at her hands. "Something needs to change... I can't go on like this" She tells him.

"I wanna make you mine." He tells her, giving in to his desperation to be close to her as his hand moves to rest on her anxiously fidgeting fingers.

"What's holding you back?" She mumbles as her eyes remain glued to their hands, fluttering closed for a moment as she soaks in the warmth of his hand.

"I-I don't know. I just, I feel so stupid because I want to give you the world but I'm the one stopping myself from giving it to you." He opens up quietly, his eyes boring into the side of her face. "But I know I need you, for more than just your body. I need you in every way I can have you." He whispers to her, gently pulling her closer so that his lips brush the shell of her ear. His closeness, warmth and the way his breath tickles her ear shoots a shiver down her spine.

"Please let me have you."

(a/n: i had to end it there or i would keep writing all night, i hope you all enjoyed!!)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx fic #obx #obx season 4 #rafe obx #rafe x reader #pogue reader #rafe x fwb!reader

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ybklix · 4 months ago

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LUST

☾⋆⁺₊ pairing: OT8 x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, cuckolding, mention of age gap, cheating, est. relationship, pet names, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, daddy, dreg, corruption & praise kink, impact play, handjob, oral sex, fingering, clitplay, boob play, slight roleplay, gangbang, double penetration, bukkake, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, & more !! ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦ word count: ~15k

ʚ⁺˖ 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 ˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 00: THE INTRO

main masterlist ; taglist ⭑.ᐟ

a/n: happy and spooky october! my very first kinktober event! (and ot8 lmk what u think:3) i tried to put a tiny plot lol

“I decided to take a couple of days off, well, starting with this weekend at least” expressed your boyfriend calmly, turning the page of his book, disinterested.

You sat up, turning your body to see him and slightly loosening the grip of his arm over your shoulder as you lifted your head from his chest and watched him happily and confused.

“Why is that…?” you asked him with a smile on your face.

Your eyes sparkled and Minho, your boyfriend, saw them directly, causing him tenderness, you knew there was something about him, you noticed something different from the first instant since you knew him so well, it was the first thing you noticed in the morning, but for some reason, you didn’t ask him and now you felt like you were about to know the reason.

“I just… want to relax, I haven’t done that in a while, even before my birthday” he expressed, with his typical tone that you knew so perfectly, that there was something more in-depth in his short and simple answer.

Also, he wasn’t the kind of guy who brings up the topic of his birthday and doesn’t seem fazed by surprises.

You squinted your eyes for a moment and watched him, every faction of his perfect, chiseled face, watching him closely and you knew what a lousy liar he was, Minho wasn’t making eye contact with you all of a sudden and was about to burst out in nervous laughter.

“It’s okay love” you finally replied, genuinely happy for his decision, “you know how happy it makes me that you take these breaks and be with me, it’s to be with me, right?”

He smiled warmly at you, tenderly showing his front teeth and hugging you again as he finally closed his book. You melted at his expression and countenance, you really loved every part of him. You were both there, on a quiet Sunday on the couch reading placidly, Minho sitting and you lying on his chest, enjoying each other’s warmth and company. But in a way, he was a little unsettled and you hadn’t noticed that yet since he was acting so natural and calm.

“Of course I do, honey, I adore being with you… I’ve planned to go to the cabin, shall we?”

You nodded happily, pulling your face closer to him.

“I love the idea…”

And before you could kiss him, he spoke again saying:

“And have the boys come with me…”

Minho blinked suddenly waiting for your answer, but you pulled away from him a little and quickly thought that’s what all the mystery surrounding him during the day was about.

“Oh, you’ll go only with t…”

“No love, I want us to go, them and I thought I’d invite their wives.”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, you just stared at him for a few seconds and you could think that it was his cabin anyway, his own property and he could decide what to do with it at his own will, so you just smiled, deep down a little disappointed because you had already got the idea into your head to spend a weekend alone in the relaxing forest with your boyfriend, an activity he really loved; but you respected him a lot, absurdly a great amount that you used to be so modest with him to what led you to be submissive to him, something you have discussed previously, in that you may have different opinions and you were more than free to express everything with him, yet you didn’t know exactly why you couldn’t accomplish it. You loved the cabin, it was so spacious, it was literally a big house, the landscapes were beautiful and Minho had it very well kept as it was like his own sanctuary. There was this idea that if he didn’t have to be a civilian and functioning adult with a job in the city, he would live in the quiet of the forest without thinking about it, but it was a few hours outside the city and its access was not so easy. He always offered you his cabin as a way of escape for inspiration in your new work, but he was busy all the time and couldn’t stay with you there, causing you fear and uncertainty to be alone in the forest so you just politely declined every time.

“It’s okay, Minho, it will be fun” you replied kindly, giving him a quick kiss anyway.

You felt the softness of his lips for a brief moment, thinking about that homely, adventurous, and manly side you loved about him, he adored his typical ‘man activities’, being outdoors, camping, fishing, building things, giving you instructions when you didn’t know how to do something he knew almost automatically like fixing a car, putting together a piece of furniture and all those little things he took care of, sighing softly, every now and then letting out an aghh in a whine and looking at you with his big eyes in a falsely disapproving joking way to continue to help you anyway with all his willingness and affection, all those small and simple actions in huge contrast to how you met him, so formal, academic and modestly. You loved him so much and he loved you too.

“I knew you’d like the idea, princess. Do you want me to buy you a new wardrobe to go into the woods this time? It’ll be cold and the last time we went it was summer…”

Your cheeks turned warm quickly, something about him spoiling you too much, buying you and giving you everything, absolutely without whining and you without even having to lift a finger, still caused you some shame, you wanted to earn it, you had been unemployed for months now after graduating, but Minho was supporting you and he used to tell you that you shouldn’t think like that, you did work hard, in writing your new book… but simply, you didn’t manage to finish it. He has given you everything and so many opportunities that even the slightest thing shocked you, despite your already long-standing relationship.

“I’ll see what I can buy myself…” you wanted to emphasize the words buy myself, implying that you would use the money they used to pay you from time to time when you sent the manuscript of some chapters.

“Buy all you want, use my card, dear” he sentenced with a smile, “Do you want more coffee?”

You didn’t even reason his question and nodded somewhat stunned, the next thing you saw was your boyfriend get up from the couch to grab your cups on the nightstand before you and walk to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, you wanted to be so grateful to him in such a way that he could feel it and touch it, he kept telling you that he knew you were grateful and that your final art will be a delicious reward for him, but sometimes you felt the need to do something for him… but you couldn’t think of something concrete, not like the things he did for you. You also thought, as you leaned your body back against the couch, how much he loved the cabin, and his 7 closest friends, so when he mentioned ‘the boys’ you knew exactly who Minho meant. You met them over time in your relationship, at reunions and birthdays, you got to be at the birthday party of Seo Changbin, Han Jisung, Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin, Bahng Chan, and the upcoming was Minho’s, you met the rest of his close group, Yang Jeongin and Hwang Hyunjin. Only four of them were married, Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin, and of those four, all except Chagbin already had children, about the others, you really did not know their love situation. But you also knew their respective wives and to be honest... They seemed to you, like women with eccentric but empty personalities, and it was not as if you took the time to know perfectly well Minho’s best friends, you only knew their occupations and their approximate age, all of them were older than you, even the youngest was a decade older than you.

Suddenly curiosity flooded you… why would Minho suddenly want so many people on his property, Minho was so reserved and enjoyed solitude, and his home being invaded by 11 people sounded so exhausting, even for you who hoped not to be the main hostess, you thought that he definitely had a reason and you wanted to find out what it was about. Minho on the other hand was nervous, it was more than obvious that there was a reason but he didn’t feel completely confident about sharing the idea with you… without you calling him sick. A very very sick man, invading your privacy and abusing your trust, but since just a few days ago the disturbing idea did not leave his mind and he wanted to act slow, seeing the result of his craziest thoughts.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

“Do you want to say goodbye to our privacy for the weekend?” you mentioned cheekily, moving dangerously close to Minho.

It’s been five days already, since your boyfriend prepared each one of them with every little detail to go to his house in the forest and make a good impression as a host, with his closest friends and some of their wives.

He frowned in confusion, small dewdrops falling on his straight, short, dark hair, as he closed the back door of his SUV where he had stowed all the luggage.

“Huh?”

“I mean… I love fucking in the cabin with you and now we’ll be with more people around” you commented, pouting a little.

Minho chuckled, incredulously running his tongue along his cavity, amused by your comment, he looked so fucking good, his face just awake, still him in all his senses.

“God, y/n, it’s seven in the morning” he smiled amused with his hands on his hips, almost indignant, “You’re thinking about sex this early?”

You blushed, “Mmm, I’m kinda horny.”

“Wasn’t last night enough?”

You denied frantically, wrapping your arms around his body, “I can never get enough of you…”

Minho released a chuckle, returning your tight embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back and drawing you into his body as an adorable but mischievous smile graced his pretty face and he looked at your countenance in amusement.

“Mmm, okay, but we can’t be late, it’ll be quick…” he mentioned in a low, thick voice, moaning softly in jest as he walked around moving your body trapped in his arms, alerting all your senses.

You were glad, you smiled happily moving the muscles of your face and raising your ears on the spot, being touched by Minho always put you in a perfect mood.

“We’ll be right on time” you replied, lost in the closeness of his face, lips, and soft chin.

“It better be because that fucker Seungmin is always on time.”

You laughed, somewhat stunned letting yourself be carried by his steps to the entrance of his home, where once inside, Minho pushed you against the door and took your lips passionately, surprising you a little, you tasted the fleshiness of his lips and his fresh breath from his oral hygiene just a few minutes ago, his left hand held your cheek while with the other he squeezed your waist tightly; you had dressed so cute and autumnal that your boyfriend had to kiss you after seeing you all dressed up, hair and make up done, dressed in your denim mini skirt, sweater and thin scarf while he was telling you in your ear and between kisses how cute you looked, how much he loved you and how you looked like a cute little doll like that, completely ruining the random lip combo you had chosen, he also got horny seeing you like that, with your mini skirt and such a candid look, getting even jealous for slight seconds that his friends would also see you like this every day, since you weren’t confident enough with them to walk around in your comfortable and loose clothes inside the home, so you had packed different and elaborate outfits with all your necessary makeup, Minho was heated halfway through your kissing session, but unlike you, he knew how to calm down and didn’t ask to do it right there, but it certainly left you wanting more, with your poor core muscles tingling restlessly, but you just watched as your boyfriend stopped, pretending to be shocked and busy, saying he had to get everything into the car and if you would help him, leaving you pining, but right now he was kissing you with much more intensity than a few minutes ago, his body was getting closer and closer to yours to the point where you could feel the hardness of the door on your back and the stiff denim of his crotch with his hard penis trapped in it, rubbing against you.

It took you small seconds to keep up with him, his lips and tongue moving nimbly across you and you couldn’t help but feel the typical tingle in your bottom, enjoying the moment and fantasizing about how much you love sex and intimacy with your boyfriend. It wasn’t something you used to remark on, but your mind kept spinning on how much of an expert Minho was with you, it wasn’t like you were the most expert at sex either since, after all, he was the first with you in everything and he was the only person you knew sexually, but he made you feel so great, he knew exactly where to touch you and how to drive you crazy, if that made you young and naive you didn’t care, you loved every moment of the day you got to explore with him, explore the endless desire and pleasure you had until you were panting after you climaxed so intensely.

Minho loved every part of you, he used to ignore the fact that you were younger than him and were slightly a doll to him, so moldable and manipulable to his desire, but he put that aside —or at least he convinced himself to do so— and was quite the gentleman with you, because he loved you, even though sometimes, most of the time, he notices the way you love to be treated a little rough in bed, driving him absolutely wild, fantasizing in all the ways you both could get to fulfill both of your fantasies. In fact, he notices every detail about you, it is inevitable for him not to be aware of you and to be deeply obsessed with you, your relationship started that way, with piercing glances from him to you in places where he should have been professional and kept his posture, but you were the fucking temptation in person, making his life miserable the time he couldn’t have you.

But now, he had you all to himself, all the time, every moment you both desired, Minho adored every inch of you, he praised the ground you walked on, he loved that you were his and taking you around as his most special person and his most prized possession and award, nothing took away his smug smile every time he held your hand in public, he adored possessing you so his deep kisses trapped every part of you as you felt the warmth of his organ separate from you to go down to your neck, gently pulling the thin fabric of your scarf, causing you to tingle and shiver but the feeling didn’t stop, as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing your skin, losing himself in the pure paradise that the sweetness of your being was giving him.

Minho took a deep breath, his libido on edge and his cock throbbing at your slightest proximity, he was losing his mind, he wanted to bite your skin, to revel in your sweet moans of his teeth mistreating your docile young skin but he held back, like a man aware in his senses, but lately he has been holding back a lot when it came to you, one part of him wondered why and the other knew exactly the reason, with a slight prickling sensation in his chest, Minho has been thinking too much about it.

“Fuck, bunny, I can’t fuck you right now, but I’ll be quick and take care of that needy part of you” he whispered into your neck, his heaving breath rocking you, “We can’t be late…. or, fuck it, do you want me to fuck you now?”

His right hand traveled from your waist to your pussy, cupping it for a moment, sending a pang of sudden surprise arousal through your body, you bit your lip, still with the feel of his on yours, with his taste and the madness it was taking you to feel the tip of his nose brush against your neck.

“It’s okay, Minho” you answered without thinking, and without even reasoning a single word he had said, you weren’t thinking clearly, your hormones were high, and you just enjoyed the pressure of his palm on your clit.

“Yeah, what?” he murmured in amusement, pulling away from you to stand in front of you, with a half smile, enjoying your docile expression of pleasure.

You looked up at him into his huge, completely dark eyes which watched you expectantly. You blinked to try to reason but he pressed his hand against your center again making you release a soft moan.

“We’ll be late…” you replied with difficulty, your face was turning red, you were starting to get hot, “You can do whatever you want…”

“Say what you want, now” he ordered, his sudden switch surprised you but you liked it at all, he sounded so serious.

“Can you take care of me quickly, please” you almost gasped in supplication.

“You just love when I make you feel good, don’t you?” he replied haughtily with a smile on his face, giving you a fleeting kiss.

Minho quickly slid to the floor, staying right at the height of your skirt, which he lifted it and his smile somehow got bigger as he saw you wearing tiny protective shorts under it, something in him quickly fantasized about the fact that you were not a bad girl looking for evil, you could be spontaneous and naughty and only wearing your underwear underneath, instead you were protecting yourself as you would be at least almost 72 hours along with more men.

“Good girl” he whispered, panting and mumbling, yanking roughly at your shorts and panties.

You watched Minho, glancing down at him from above, you couldn’t deny how incredibly aroused you were and of all the areas of your body that cried out to be touched, it was in more desperation your sweet throbbing cunt, you wandered between your thoughts and his lewd acts; if only you had ignored the fact that Minho had to receive his friends and decided to be completely filled by him, you would already be naked, pressed against his body as the two of you created more tension, as he prepared your body well before fucking you hard because Minho loves to have you so wet, messed up before finally inserting his well-endowed manhood into you, it was something so common with him, but no, instead, before you could even process it, your handsome boyfriend captured your pussy in his mouth, leaving you stunned and gasping, kissing your area dirtily and nimbly, his lower lip and tongue caressing your folds, labia and clit, his upper lip rubbing on your pubic skin, sucking finely. You thought about how much you enjoyed having him eat you whole and, that if he decided to do it with the same delicacy and passion with which he always gives you oral sex, you would only drag out your orgasm and that might lead you to fall behind with your journey, but you were so needy all of a sudden, that a little bit of your boyfriend’s magic and movements in your desperate spot was enough for you just now.

Minho looked into your eyes raising his gaze and did not take his mouth away from you, he closed it, daintily brushing his lips to gently kiss your mons pubis and moved towards you again, parting your folds and losing himself in your pulsing clit, sucking on it, not caring about your skirt in his mission, as it was tight enough to stay stuck above your hips. You intertwined your hand in his soft hair, enjoying your boyfriend’s warm cavity in your slick. Minho was equally or worse exasperated, so he couldn’t help but torture himself further and in one swift movement he unbuttoned his jeans with one of his hands and pulled his cock out, almost grunting with your pussy in his mouth at the sensation of his hard piece of flesh exposed, pumping in pleasure, he stroked it, filling his hand with his own precum and began to masturbate gently, while with you he remained somewhat rough.

His suction increased in intensity, making you let out a squeal and then bite your lip, his tongue was increasing in speed, his licks were more constant and deeper, you were building your orgasm magically, but you lost your mind as you felt his fingertips caress your folds and then run them more roughly through your wetness until they sought your entrance, teasing you with a single finger, then inserting two, effectively thrusting them inside you, you were a mess of sighs and heavy breathing but you let out an audible moan again as you felt his third finger in you and the gentle nibble of his teeth on your sensitive area.

You were both in bliss, his cock being stimulated by himself to orgasm but not missing a beat in you, finding himself multitasking as he satisfied you with his hand and mouth. You began to shudder, feeling the tense climax in every inch of your body, his fingers were filling you, his tongue licking you all over making incredible shocks of pleasure come to you as you looked into his eyes from time to time, his whole pretty face buried in your core as he struggled with himself masturbating. You gasped in exasperation as you moaned his name, you loved moaning his name, stroking his hair, watching him satisfy you. Your stiff muscles ached but your core was being divinely pleasured and without warning, you cum on your boyfriend’s magical fingers fucking your insides.

Minho pulled his fingers out to taste every part of you one last time, jerking his cock hard until he squeezed and expelled every drop of cum loaded in his sizzling arousal, groaning through his teeth as he ran his thick tongue naughtily cleaning every part of you, making you slightly restless again and hard to recover from your orgasm, because you knew it was a little provocative game Minho liked to play on you, but before you could become aroused again, he broke away from you, raising his face to look at you, his mouth glistening from you, smiling genuinely happy as if he had tasted something finely delicious.

“Go on, princess, go get cleaned up, I’ll do the same and meet you here at the front door to go, okay?” spoke Minho softly.

You were both agitated, but satisfied that you couldn’t have asked for anything better before starting your little adventure in the forest of which you had no idea what you were in for or about to do so in the meantime you kept calm about it, but the more you thought about it and the closer and closer you got to your destination, you were terrified of the idea of looking like an immature girl who was all the time next to her boyfriend because she didn’t have enough confidence with the rest of the people who would be there, because the more you thought about it the more absurd it seemed to you the matter or the reason for such a weekend. You tried to look on the bright side, but deep down you hoped it wouldn’t be a long or tedious weekend at all.

You two went to get cleaned up and returned with big smiles to get into Minho’s car and drive a little over two hours out of the city to officially head into the woods. You fixed your makeup on the way as Minho drove, gently squeezing your thigh as he gave you a smile and headed off on his way to his property, you returned the sweet gesture with a smile and excitedly, did your best not to sleep, talked the whole ride with Minho and had fun selecting music.

“Play something from IU, baby” commented your boyfriend watching you holding your phone to handle the music, then looking back towards the highway.

“IU…” you replied playfully, squinting your eyes and pouting at him, annoyed.

Minho laughed and the rest of the ride was so enjoyable, you were a little sleepy but it was enough for you to see the attractive profile side of your partner and suddenly you would blurt out something that came to your mind. But in moments of silence, when the music was the only thing that accompanied you, you thought about the situation, it was obvious that Minho wanted to spend some time with his friends and he would leave you with the wives of his best friends but… what the fuck could you talk about? You were a recent college graduate, your hobbies were so normal and banal to those of a young girl your age, but from there also came your uncertainty and insecurity that you would be judged and that they would think of you exactly the same but with Minho, if you are young and your vision or ambitions were oriented differently, then what were you doing with Minho, but it was an answer that you could respond surprisingly with the most cheesy and even childish words, but because you loved him, the support was mutual and that’s why you were with him.

“Maybe… this weekend you can finally find inspiration, sweetie.”

You hummed in response as you nodded softly as he interrupted your thoughts, but right after hearing that you went back to diving into them and the constant worry you had about writing something; Minho noticed your silence immediately wanting to remedy the problem.

“Oh, my dear, I wasn’t telling you that to pressure you, you have time, enjoy, I love you” he said worriedly, speaking fast and controlling his impulses to let go of the steering wheel to hug and touch you.

“Oh, it wasn’t that” you replied unconcerned and somewhat guilty that you made him feel bad, “It’s okay, I’m sorry, Minho. Thank you.”

All the things Minho did for you. Or at least you always thought so. You just wondered if you could ever give it back to him.

Some time later you arrived at his house, your excitement and nerves grew once the tires of his car passed through the forest dirt and on a cool, beautiful October morning, two lovers stood in front of the house you never thought held surprises for you.

The cabin, as Minho used to like to call it, looked the same as you remembered it the last time you went, in the summer just a few months ago, but the atmosphere was cooler, the sky was gray and it was adorned all around by the beautiful autumn color palette, it was cozy, it was absolutely all the essence of your lover Lee Minho in one property.

“I’ll take the things out, hon. If you want to sleep you can go inside, it’s all ready, the housekeeper left it spotless” he added, coming up to you to hug you and pin you against his car door.

“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy, really” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Besides your friends could be here any minute.”

And just as you said that, you both could hear perfectly besides the sound of the wind and leaves flying, the sound a car driving up to your direction. You both turned your head to the left waiting for the car to show itself, until it did a few minutes later.

“Was he coming behind us and we didn’t see him?” added Minho amused, not releasing his grip on your waist.

You didn’t react, you were so comfortable with your arms on his shoulders that you both watched in anticipation as the car parked and the people got out of it.

Kim Seungmin. Just the person Minho had said would arrive first. Minho had all these characters as best friends. Kim Seungmin, superstar baseball player married to the model and creative director and manager of one of the most famous girl groups currently, basically she was a socialite and businesswoman, Jung Jisook, but better known as Kim Jisook legally taking her husband’s last name.

You felt the woman’s judging look as she lowered her Chanel sunglasses from her face, watching as you and Minho continued like two lovebirds cuddling. You felt bad for a small moment and slowly stopped hugging your boyfriend, who also gently pulled away from you to move closer to his friend.

“Fuck, Minho, I’m early again” Seungmin said suddenly, putting his hands on his hips falsely indignant.

“Nice to see you again, Minho, the house is beautiful and you have the lake for yourself, amazing. I want a lake house too now” added the woman happily, approaching your boyfriend to greet him, “Thank you for inviting us.”

“How are you Jisook? It’s good to see you too, and don‘t worry, my house is your house. How’s Jungmin?”

Jungmin, the Kim’s little two year old boy. You haven‘t met him yet.

“My sister is taking care of him by herself these days” Seungmin replied, “Why did you bring us here again?” he joked, “Ah, by the way, nice to see you again…. Y/n, I’m Kim Seungmin in case you don’t remember.”

You let out a giggle, you were absorbed by the situation around you that you had even forgotten to speak.

“Hello” you replied shyly, waving your hand, “Mr. and Mrs…”

“Seungmin, please” he interrupted you with a smile to which you nodded, he looked straight at his wife, waiting for her to do the same.

“Jisook” she replied despondently.

You bit your lip nervously, you understood and felt her slight disdain for you as before you, in Minho’s life there was someone else, his ex-wife Miyeon, who you were very much aware is still a close friend of his best friends‘ current wives.

“Well, settle in, make yourselves comfortable, Y/n will show you to your room."

“You seriously have rooms for everyone? That’s great” Jisook added, “Honey we should get something like that, wouldn‘t that be fun?”

“The forest at night?” her husband replied, “No thanks, Minho likes it because he’s a maniac.”

You laughed at his comment and waited for Seungmin to put their bags down. You watched him carefully, you had to confess that each of Minho’s friends had their own particular charm and, each of them were really attractive men. Seungmin had innocent looking, droopy-kind eyes, short black hair and a manly, elegant and slim build, with a clean and slightly boyish appearance.

You finally opened the house and led the Kims into the room your boyfriend had previously indicated. You saw Jisook inspecting the place as she walked in and somewhat awkwardly you were about to leave them alone when a “Thank you, y/n” from Seungmin stopped you for a second.

You didn’t know if you were crazy, if you were seeing things that weren’t but Seungmin’s tender and kind look at you changed for a second, his dark eyes were shining and you could notice how he subtly checked you out, somewhat mischievously. You smiled and walked out, frowning and wondering if it was all in your imagination.

But there were so many of their intentions that you didn’t know, Minho’s big little secret baiting you, you were the main attraction, the real reason for those men‘s stay at Lee Minho’s cabin.

You rejoined Minho outside the house, watching each of his friends arrive, taking surprise after surprise as you watched each attractive man walk through the door of the house behind you as you directed them to their room since that was the task Minho had assigned for you.

Next, Seo Changbin, who complained when he arrived and did not think he would be early, but it was all arranged by his wife who wanted to be near the lake; he was an aeronautical engineer with a PhD and a professor at the prestigious university where Lee Minho himself was also a faculty member; accompanied by his pretty model wife and owner of a women’s sportswear line, Seo Chaeryeong. Changbin, in addition to mathematics, loved to keep his image healthy and exercise, so his appearance was muscular and his eyes were so uniquely shaped.

Next, Lee Felix, arriving alone, something about him looked anxious but happy, he was a handsome, freckled, big eyed man with long, blond, dyed hair, he arrived confident with a blue designer suitcase, Felix was a programmer who worked importantly designing video games or something like that you understood from Minho. Right behind him came Hwang Hyunjin, a painter who owned galleries with his wife Vittoria, an exclusive interior designer, who had, together with Hyunjin, been involved in much of the cabin’s interior for years now.

Later at about the same time, Bahng Chan, owner of a boxing academy, which Minho attended, and chief of police in the city, together with his wife Miah, who you had no idea what she did but lived a good life with Chan. After him, Yang Jeongin, the youngest of your group of friends, editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine, arriving with a huge smile and charisma, secretly being one of your boyfriend’s favorites.

At this point you were exahusted, you didn’t expect to see so many people all of a sudden, you had forgotten your social battery, but finally, your boyfriend’s best friend, Han Jisung, the handsome Han Jisung, producer and composer of major entertainment companies, could not be missed.

They were all, the house was certainly full, a few hours had passed and you were already starting to judge each one with a bit of your writer’s mind, but you decided to ignore it, letting yourself be carried away by the simplicity of the time. Minho had planned it all, cooking for you, getting together for lunch, setting up around the house so you could relax, you were having a good time leaving the fact that you felt highly judged by the four women older than you.

The first day went so well, you went to sleep with Minho kissing him sweetly good night but… the nightmare came the next morning, when your boyfriend distanced himself from you to spend some time with friends and you were forced to spend time with the eccentric and millionaire women, at first it went well, Chaeryeong, the youngest after you, invited you to run early along the forest, which you accepted, when you were about to do so, her husband was outside, preparing some things with the other guys, setting up camping tents because apparently they would be spending the night outside today and after she gave Changbin a quick kiss and started jogging, he gave you a half smile and you couldn’t help but feel watched again, just like the first day Seungmin did, in fact you have been feeling watched, heavy gazes on you.. but you thought you were starting to get paranoid, they didn’t bother you, but they confused you too much… why were they looking at you, as if you were in the spotlight and suddenly they wanted to eat you with their eyes.

You didn't give the matter a second thought, you came in from your little exercise, clearing your mind by jogging through the trees, feeling the cool air hit your face, leaving you breathless and in a cold sweat. You went back to the cabin, showered and dressed up again this time slightly more comfortable and natural, you thought you were going for a quiet afternoon, but your boyfriend forced you to spend the rest of the afternoon with the women in the town 40 minutes away.

You couldn’t believe it, there you were, in Hwang Hyunjin’s car while his wife was driving, you didn’t know if Minho was waiting for them to become your best friends overnight, but it was absurd… they were something unbelievable. You didn’t want to judge them as women blinded in the perfect life and glamour, but they were exactly that, you didn’t blame them, if you had the necessary money god knows how unbearable you would become too, but, being with other people, seeing the sunsets and the sunrise from a new perspective, all those little factors that were making you become yourself again little by little, you were inspired.

You arrived, spent a nice night under the stars and a campfire, eating smores, telling absolutely everything, each one was so talkative in their own way, you could feel why Minho appreciated them a lot, but the robots at their sides didn’t help them at all, you wanted to love them, you wanted to feel in the closeness and trust of women, but you had such neutral opinions about them, they judged with their eyes every time they laughed loudly and you understood that sometimes it was annoying, but not to be reflected that way all the time. The camping tents were in vain, in the end everyone went to sleep inside, that night Minho surprised you, being overly affectionate all of a sudden.

“Look at the view” he said, hugging you from behind, sniffing the smell of your hair as he pointed to the window.

Darkness and more darkness, only a pine tree being dimly illuminated by the light outside. You never stopped to think how scary it looked at night because you were all the time accompanied by Minho and you felt completely safe.

“It looks scary” you spoke your mind.

“It really does, a little bit” he spoke in your ear, turning you unexpectedly to face him.

You looked into his eyes, you understood exactly what was going on.

“I need you” he confessed to you.

Your cheeks turned pink, you were a little shy to have sex because it was so likely that they could hear you, in that case, Felix, Jeongin and Jisung who slept in the same room near yours.

“I don’t know, Min, I don't want to be vulgar and be overheard…” you expressed apologetically.

Minho’s mind spun around, vulgarity, noise, scandal, it was all he could think of lately.

“If you don’t want to do it princess that’s fine, but if you want to do it we can be so, so quiet” he whispered, seducing you as he brought his face dangerously close towards you.

You kissed him. And he got his way that night, it wasn’t like you refused either and, with a hand over your mouth, trying to cancel out any noise coming from you, you and Minho fucked that night. The forest was silent, your muffled moans and Minho’s withheld moans decorated that night.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟⋆｡°

The next morning you woke up without the silhouette of your lover by your side, you took a shower and got ready to go downstairs for lunch but everything was particularly quiet that Sunday morning, your last day of adventure.

You looked around a bit scared, it was as if there was no one else in the house, giving you chills, lunch was ready, at least yours, set on the kitchen island, but there was no one there, but suddenly Minho’s presence managed to scare you a bit.

“You’re awake, baby. Come, we’re outside, have lunch here with us.”

Minho spoke softly to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek and taking the plate of food, the glass and the cutlery to head towards the back area of the house where Minho had a sort of balcony or small living room outside to relax. You were glad not to be alone for a moment, but the strange feeling inside you returned when you saw that it was only his seven best friends sitting there. You felt the piercing gaze of each of them with every step you took.

“Hey, Y/n” Chan greeted you to which you smiled nervously, sitting down.

“Hi” you replied to everyone in general.

You just wondered where their wives could be and how seeing you there alone among them all was questionable, or was it just your mind making you think that.

You were a little shy, yet you dared to look at each of their faces, it really seemed as if they knew something you didn’t, they were hiding something.

The rest of your lunch none of the wives showed up and you felt so shy to ask, but none of them felt shy with you, questioning you down to the smallest detail.

You didn’t understand what was going on, but they did.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

Finally back home almost at dusk, you couldn’t help but think about the way you met Minho and that maybe that’s one of the main reasons why you were getting disapproving looks from wives, you knew it was wrong, it wasn’t the best of cases but it happened, you released sparks and your love was born unexpectedly. You had met Minho in a somewhat unfavorable way, in your last winter at the university before graduating, Lee Minho was your professor. At first there was nothing but sighs and complicit glances that you thought were only coming from you, but you didn’t know you were driving Minho crazy and over time… it was inevitable, you got closer and closer to each other on winter break, he took you on clandestine dates, showed you his home, showed you his heart and a side of him that he didn’t think would ever come out again after his divorce, but by January he was already confessing to you that he had never flirted or fallen in love with a student… that the fatality of the situation was inevitable… but that if somehow you both had to try, you didn’t hesitate, at that point you were so immersed in him, everything had his name written all over it and it was perhaps because he was your first great love. You started dating secretly until you graduated and by June he offered you to live with him to which after thinking it over, you accepted and everything with you had been wonderful so far, everything could have been perfect if it wasn’t for your constant feeling of stagnation at work.

You looked at your boyfriend’s profile side and reenacted in your mind the slightly weird moment when he almost forced you to spend with his 7 best friends, you knew you shouldn’t take it that way, but all the women leaving and leaving you alone with 8 men was a situation you were left to think about… but you were so sweet and naive that you didn’t have the slightest idea of the thoughts that ruled the mind of the one you used to think of him as a sweet and tender lover, Minho’s thoughts.

Minho had a degree in languages, literature, in grammar, courses and postgraduate degrees in publishing and among countless other things that surprised you, his family owned a popular and old publishing house which only further developed Minho’s passion for literature and one of the things that made him fall in love with you was your sensual and unique way of writing, the way you chose the words to develop the perfect paragraph of whatever it was you wanted to put forward, the subtlety of your eroticism in words, for when you were both secretly lovers you used to write short stories from a compilation of these in a book he published under his publisher under a pseudonym you both chose, the thrill of something so morally wrong, the ephemeral and forbidden sex in his office, all that motivated you so much, but now he lived with a broken heart that you couldn’t find something concrete to write about so you could have your first book.

Minho saw you frustrated even though you tried to hide it, and on several occasions he witnessed how much you used to write in a notebook, by hand, to which he curiously asked you one night what it was about, to which you nervously answered that it was just your personal diary.

At first he didn’t care, he thought it was cute the way you still wrote by hand, when even he couldn’t keep that level of commitment, but one night, a Saturday night to be exact, a week before he proposed to visit his house in the forest, you went out with one of your friends leaving him alone, so he came into your office, really without any purpose, he saw the chair in front of your desk and remembered how tenderly nervous you were when he found out you had a personal diary, suddenly, curiosity invaded him: Minho knew he shouldn’t, that he was invading your privacy but he was so curious to know, he shared all his secrets with you, but how many of them you kept.

And then, he looked for your diary, finding it after searching, you had hidden it. He wasn’t going to sit down and read every page of your privacy as if it were the damned newspaper, he was just curious about what you were saying most recently, to which, that night, with his heart racing, he opened the journal and read, with a smile as he visualized your calligraphy on the paper.

I have had fantasies. I honestly don’t know why if sex with Minho is wonderful. It’s just… at first it was these dreams, so hot I’d wake up in a daze, with wetness in my panties, feeling it so real, but I’d forget them right away, they were blurry memories of this one and sometimes I just thought they were dreams where I recreated something sexual with Minho, sex on the couch, sex in the kitchen but, god, I sound like a perverted, sexually frustrated older woman in her declining sex life, but, I had this encounter, with one of Minhovs best friends ...

Minho’s heart almost stopped beating for a second and he turned pale when he read that, continuing in panic with the reading, almost wanting to close the journal and not thinking that it could be about what he feared the most, an infidelity. He read on.

… and I think from there, for some reason my subconscious has gone crazy. I was always a firm believer that dreams sometimes had meanings, sometimes they were random products of your mind… but the fact that you imagine even when you are asleep seems incredibly fascinating to me, I always liked dreams, even if they are nightmares, it’s just that, it’s an indicator that your brain never turns off even for a second, I don’t know, it’s something difficult to explain that fascinates me too much. The point is, I ran into one of his best friends while I was doing some grocery shopping and we had a nice talk and I couldn’t help but think how different he was from Minho but the way I liked him so much, he is so handsome, I must admit, he has an exceptional charisma and I think from there my fantasies have grown, I think he is the one I dream about.

Minho stopped reading for a second to look at your manuscript in disbelief. While thousands of not so friendly thoughts ran through his mind: who were you talking about? What the fuck was that all about? Did you like a friend of his? Who? What was going on?

For a moment I had the idea of writing about that, about a woman who frequently has fantasies about her boyfriend’s best friend, but I don’t know, I hope to elaborate and not fall into cliché, besides, what purpose can it serve? Will it be a book about infidelity? Am I unconsciously being unfaithful to Minho? I know minho is not like that, that if I tell him the idea and show him a draft he will be brutally honest and judge as a critic and not as a boyfriend, but I am so uncertain, what if he thinks it is something that happens to me, something I am somehow becoming very familiar with, or am I just overthinking it?

I talked about it with my friends, they told me it’s normal at the same time yes and at the same time no, they laughed at me saying that after all I just wanted to fuck his best friend, but then they argued something that left me thinking more than I already was.

First times and only loves. Minho is the only thing I know of love and I love him. But, it was also my first sexual relationship and my friends argued that it’s only because I’ve never tried another man other than Minho before.

I thought it was absurd, I love him, everything with him is great, the way he touches me and makes me feel, I can easily say that I want to be all my life with him, but the idea had already been embodied in me, they were right, he has been the only man, but it is normal that only sometimes I think what will it feel like to explore with more?

I don’t want to leave him, I love him, I don’t want to cheat on him either, but I’m young and I want to experiment. But I’m also young and I don’t think clearly.

The more Minho read, the more dizzy he became, the next thing, he was astonished, words written by you of an explicit description of everything you would like to do, or at least, everything you dreamed of with a man who was not him. You described him as stronger, firm and rigid fingers going through your core, strong thighs hitting your body every time he penetrated you… god, Minho read absolutely everything with frightened eyes, he wished he didn’t.

Curiosity killed the cat. Minho had stopped fantasizing about other women because with you he had it all… but your argument drove him crazy, he did have experience with more women, but for you Minho was everything, he didn’t know whether to be flattered or confused.

He knew it was wrong and he shouldn’t have read it in the first place but, the stunned left his body after a couple of days and something in him was ignited, the fact that you were so sexually turned on and wanted to try all kinds of sizes… his thoughts weren’t exactly sweet, he imagined your sweet face while you were being fucked, wasn’t that what you wanted and craved so much?

If you wanted to experiment with more men, why not do it with what he already knew and had full trust in.

The idea was unhinged and he didn’t know how to put it to his friends, until he said it, so suddenly and in a serious tone as he used to be, a simple and classic Minho, gathered in tranquility, he blurted out:

“Mmm, I think we should fuck Y/n.”

His friends looked at him puzzled, doubting if they had heard right. They knew how special you were to Minho, why would he offer something so insane? Or was it a joke?

It was a crazy idea, but in the end, they all agreed.

On the other hand, on the way Minho questioned you if you had felt good and if you had noticed the unhappiness and frustration on his friends’ faces about the marriage, you found it strange because you idealized marriage so much and expected it to be the most sacred thing, hoping that one day you could unite your life forever with his.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

And then you were seduced to another weekend in the forest, you were happy as your writing had flowed so naturally and your boyfriend’s gentle proposal filled you with excitement again.

“Let’s go one more time to the cabin, finally without so many people” he mentioned to you spontaneously, while you were tending the garden in autumn as he gave you a resounding kiss on the cheek.

There you were again, but just as you arrived you got the huge surprise that you already had visitors.

“What is this? I thought we would be alone” you said to Minho before getting out of the car.

You weren’t upset just confused by his strange behavior lately.

“Relax, princess. It’s just 3 of my friends, they adore you, come on.”

Minho was quick to get out of the car. It seemed as if Bahng Chan, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix were waiting for you. Again you felt inside you that feeling that they were planning and hiding something you had no idea about.

You greeted them. You tried to be okay but it bothered you that Minho was telling you half the things, or so you felt.

“Hi, Y/n, what do you want to do today?” greeted you sweetly Hyunjin of which you were a bit confused.

Minho gave him a withering look as you both walked towards the entrance. Everyone was nervous but tried to hide it.

“Campfire? Camping? A movie?” added Chan.

“Go to the lake with me” interrupted Felix.

You looked at them strangely because just a week ago your talks were still a bit formal, you didn’t talk much like you could say that with all the confidence, but you didn’t take it badly, you liked them, you saw the kindness of their intentions, or at least you thought so, they were nice men worthy of Minho’s love so, you liked them too.

“No” Minho replied almost annoyed.

“I’m fine, thank you, what can we do Minho?” you asked innocently.

You managed to raise the gazes of the other men, seeing how you sought Minho’s opinion on everything.

They remembered that moment in the backyard of Felix’s house where Minho summoned them when he told them about his crazy idea.

“She's… pretty and submissive, it’s cute, she seeks my approval but honestly I’ll could never be able to say no to her.”

“Too pretty I’d say” Changbin added amused.

Minho gave him a dirty look.

“And she asked you that she wanted to be fucked by 8 guys and you couldn’t say no to her?” joked Seungmin.

“No. It’s not like that, it’s just, it’s something I know.”

“Who in the world asks his friends if they want to gangbang his girlfriend?” provoked Seungmin.

“Shut your mouth, Seungmin, if you don’t want to participate then forget this” Minho spat.

“Oh no, I’m in” he quickly replied scoffing.

The rest of the friends laughed.

“Then why the fuck do you have to…” Minho was about to comment but was interrupted by Felix.

“What do you know, you said you knew something.”

Attention went to the freckled man but once as soon as Minho warmed up his vocal cords to respond, all 7 pairs of eyes focused on him.

“I read something from her, how she’s young and currently has been fantasizing about being with more men because…. shit, I don’t want to stir up your dirty fantasies, but-”

“As if this wasn’t dirty enough already” Jeongin muttered with a grin. Minho continued.

“… I’m the only man she’s been with, she has no other experiences besides me so, I don’t know, it came to my mind to give her more experiences, me, deciding with whom, maybe it’s fear so she won’t go and cheat on me with some idiot I don’t know.”

“Then it’s better that she cheats on you with your idiot friends, how thoughtful” Jisung spoke, joking.

But the idea that you were inexperienced flew in the heads of each of the men, they always wondered how Minho could have you, but now the most important issue for them was that now they could have you too. They were more than delighted.

Eight guys for you alone seemed so aggressive to Minho, so he divided his group of friends, Chan, Hyunjin, Felix and him on Friday; Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin would arrive early tomorrow.

The afternoon went fast. The men were so ready, but you had no idea.

During dinner, somewhat early, you felt Minho’s hand provoke your center under your skirt, caressing your thighs, squeezing your clit. You hadn’t thought about sex until Minho touched you.

Although you had to admit, seeing Chan always turned your cheeks red, because he was the one you fantasized about. Chan was so cute, he had a cute and contagious laugh, his face changed harmoniously every time he smiled, he was attentive, you got to know him a little more at the supermarket, when he had left work and was doing his shopping. But… none of his other friends were bad at all, if you looked at them in detail, it was hard to say you weren’t attracted to at least more than one, or all of them, you felt like a little slut but, you were young and they were handsome men.

After that, you tried to watch a movie, but after 20 minutes they all went outside with the weird excuse of wanting to go get some air, you watched them confused leave and you were just left with your boyfriend, sitting on the couch.

“Uh, it’s going to start raining, they should go inside” you said, suddenly remembering the weather forecast and the sounds of thunder falling recently.

Heavy rain was coming, and not just meteorologically.

“Y/n” Minho spoke softly to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh.

Your attention returned to him, you were turned facing the direction the boys had left a short while ago.

“Yes?”

Minho sighed, nervous, you put your hands on his back worrying immediately, you were about to speak but he said.

“I have this crazy idea, if you don’t want to do it that’s fine. Seriously, we can forget I said it…” you looked at him scared, every faction of his face lit up by the TV as the movie continued to play, “I want you to experiment more, I want you to be free to try other men.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it was as if he had entered your head for a second, you turned pale. Minho looked into your eyes, his eyes were shining, they were bigger and pleading as you looked at him scared.

“You have every right to do it” he continued, “But I don’t want it to be behind my back or with any asshole. If you want to do it, that’s what boys are for.”

You looked at him puzzled.

“What?”

“You don’t want to have sex with other men? Isn’t that what you’ve been fantasizing about? Honey, I’m telling you seriously, you can tell me anything, your every thought and desire and I’ll see about fulfilling every one of them.”

You wanted to scream noo! Logically at those questions, but you kept quiet… how did he know so much? Is it true that after all Minho knows you so perfectly that he could now read your mind?

You bit your lip, your world was spinning thinking about what he was implying that you should have sex with his friends. He was right, you thought, the idea was crazy and you should forget he even said it.

But… was it true? Or were you dreaming?

A loud thunderclap made you a little jumpy. You needed him to be clear.

“Minho, I- … what do you mean?”

“That if you want to try more men and have sex you can do it now. Chan, Felix and Hyunjin are waiting for you” he replied slightly cooler.

You felt a cold breeze hit your skin. If you said yes… you were really going to have sex with them, if you said no, nothing will happen.

“Are you for real?” you replied in disbelief.

“I never joked for a second with you, my baby” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

You were perplexed.

“I know it’s hard to think about it, you can take as long as you want…”

“And if I say yes?” you replied uncertainly.

“Then you’re going to have the experiences you wanted so badly.”

The rain came down heavily all of a sudden. The boys went into the house giggling and slightly wet.

Your heart raced, you heard their voices and laughter approach and in the adrenaline of the moment, you responded.

“Yes, okay. I accept.”

Minho squeezed your thigh and smiled at you. The three men entered the room slightly wet with huge smiles plastered to their faces, you made eye contact with each of them and then averted your gaze, thinking that all this time they were here so they could fuck you.

You couldn’t hide the fact that this strange situation excited every part of you, but then you thought that two of them are married, but one of them is Chan, you were going to try him for the first time. You bit your lip, your mind told you that you should feel remorse but you were not the least bit guilty of being Hyunjin and Chan’s mistress for one night.

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

You prepared yourself. You were nervous, rambling about the situation that you even took a shower, went back to fix your hair and put on makeup. You knew it was just sex but your mind kept thinking about it, not the dirty act but, what it will be like itself.

Minho came into the room. You were ready, you wanted to look your best for the other men waiting for you downstairs.

“Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart?”

A flash of lightning illuminated the dark forest. You smiled and nodded, letting yourself be escorted by your boyfriend.

Minho turned on the house lights. He set up the main room, pushed aside the small table to leave the spacious carpeted floor space clear.

The three men sat waiting for you, leering and hungry for some of your young skin.

You sighed and Minho led you to the front of them. From left to right, Hyunjin, Chan and Felix. The rain was still echoing outside as you heard your loud heartbeat even in your ears, you were aroused like you had never been before that you were even afraid to tremble from the excitement built up in your body.

Their appearances, the way they were different and sat differently, their respective looks towards you… everything made you shudder.

“Well” Chan spoke, ”can we begin?”

You nodded softly.

“You look beautiful, Y/n, by the way” Felix suddenly blurted out making you blush.

“Rules” warned Minho, ”we won’t do anything she feels uncomfortable about, as soon as she asks to stop or that she doesn’t like something, we listen to her, okay?”

The men nodded.

“She’ll love it” Hyunjin stated with a smile.

“Who do you want to start with, princess?” spoke Minho to you.

The question took you by surprise, Minho saw your innocent confused face.

“Oh… you can start with yourself and, teach us” whispered your boyfriend seductively, tugging at the hems of your sweater to take it off and leave you in your bra.

The thermostat was on in the house, yet you felt a sudden chill on your exposed skin.

Chan and Hyunjin bit their lip, one hand resting on their thighs as they stirred restlessly, uncomfortable from the large erection trapped in their pants. Felix averted his gaze shyly, but then stood in awe watching the spectacle.

You noticed the bulges in each of their crotches and yours began to throb, you thought how dirty it was, fucking four hot men at once, you had never had another experience beyond Minho and now you were going to have three more at the same time. You were wet and restless.

Minho pulled your skirt down, letting it fall gracefully to the floor, leaving you half naked in front of them.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful” Hyunjin murmured, finally stroking his erection.

“Take off her bra” ordered Chan in a thick voice.

You truly felt like a doll, letting yourself be undressed. Minho removed your bra and couldn’t resist the sensation of massaging your breasts with both of his two strong hands. You bit your lip.

“Shit, Minho, don’t touch her yet” Chan complained.

Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn't sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed you to the sun, he was ready to give you a little kiss.“Come here, babygirl” ordered the older one.

Minho slowly let go of you and you obeyed his action by moving closer to him.

“Sit on that end and start touching yourself for us, show us your sweet beauty, baby doll.”

You listened to Chan and watched as he pointed to the edge of the couch, to one side of Felix.

You almost moaned at the sensation of your slick fluids, you were so wet and the manly voice that was ordering you around was making you more and more sick. Felix watched you with wide eyes, scared but he was so excited, he wasn’t sure if he wanted this, he was a little shy, but as soon as he saw you spread your legs and exposed your glistening pussy, his cock throbbed and his mouth salivated, you look so appetizing he wanted to lick you whole.

The four men moaned softly at the sight of your exposed pussy as you pulled the fabric of your panties aside. You leaned back against the armrest of the couch and acting on a voracious instinct for pleasure, you looked down at your exposed intimate area and began to touch yourself, then looked up at the other men.

You massaged your clit, felt your slick and let yourself go, trying to hide your shyness. You watched each of them closely, Hyunjin and Chan’s slitted, piercing eyes, in contrast to Felix’s big, kind eyes, almost as cute as Minho’s, who was standing there watching the show you were giving his friends.

You moaned and closed your eyes letting yourself go, you slipped two of your fingers in and they became engrossed in the softness of your digits sliding into your wet entrance; their limbs ached, asking to be touched, while you enjoyed yourself, thinking that something else might be filling you right now. You quickened your pace without thinking, about to bring yourself to orgasm, but Minho interrupted saying.

“Stop” he walked over to you, squatting down in front of you, ”Kiss me baby, then show the boys how you do it.”

You looked at him confused. You were shaking, a mess, you never thought you would be this excited in your life. You took Minho’s lips who kissed you wildly, leaving you breathless. Then you felt yourself being taken by someone else, you stood in front of Felix and the man kissed you shyly, enjoying the act.

Felix’s lips were a different sensation than Minho’s, his timing, his tongue on you that you lasted some time with him, Felix was not able to control himself with you, he wanted you too much. But suddenly, a big hand grabbing your forearm and pulling you away from the blond boy.

Chan took you with ease to settle you on his lap, sitting right on his erection for your pussy on it, taking your hips, pressing you down as he kissed you sensually and made you grind on his cock. You were breathless, your pussy throbbing hard, again enjoying a different and greater sensation of his erection on you, his hands on your body and his lips and tongue exploring you.

When you came to Hyunjin you felt once again like a toy which was being passed between boys, but Hyunjin did not take you desperately like the rest, he took hold of your hand with which you had been masturbating and brought the fingers you were pleasuring yourself with closer to your entrance, to put them in his mouth and suck them erotically while he looked into your eyes.

“Mmm” said Hyunjin happily with a tender expression of pleasure, “You taste just as I thought, so fucking sweet, baby.”

Finally he took your face between his big slender hands to kiss you, his lips were fuller to the rest, his tongue was slow but skillful, you felt like you were slowly going to heaven.

You had the feeling that you were about to be destroyed.

Chan noticed how lewdly Felix was watching you while you had your moment with Hyunjin, Chan wanted to have some fun, letting the younger one decide first.

“What do you want to do, my little mate?” said Chan amusedly to Felix.

Felix swallowed nervously, looked at Chan and then returned your gaze to you. Felix said in an exquisite thick voice.

“Let me eat her.”

You shuddered. As you pulled away from Hyunjin. Your lips were already swollen, each one of them adoring your tenderly agitated expression.

“Okay” Chan spoke, biting his lower lip and licking them afterwards.

“Babygirl, come here, settle in.”

Chan took you by the hips again and sweetly gestured for you to position your body with your knees on the couch, given the view of your ass to Felix, your torso passing over Chan’s thighs and your face and arms reaching towards Hyunjin.

“Well, enjoy yourselves. You know what to do” you heard your boyfriend say.

You could imagine what this was about and it made you nervously worked up. Felix was the first to expose his cock, you turned your eyes towards him and could see him stroking his exposed member, to pull down your panties and settle in to bury his pretty face in your core, licking your folds and searching for your clit. You moaned as you felt his warm tongue on you and Chan ran his large hand down your bare back enjoying the view, his hand was gentle but it burned in every part he touched you, you were lost in pleasure, you were reaching levels of arousal you never thought you were capable of feeling.

Chan sought your entrance and teased it with his fingers while Felix kept pleasuring himself on your pussy, you began to shudder and lose strength.

“Fuck” muttered Hyunjin excitedly at the pornographic scene of his blond friend licking your pussy and your submissive position.

Hyunjin pursed his lips and released his cock as well. His was right in front of you, it was big, erect, veiny, its pink tip was covered with his white precum. You felt dirty but you loved every second of it.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.”

You stopped looking at his cock to look him in the eyes and then lowered your gaze again. You moistened your lips and took it between your hands, it felt so good, Felix kept stimulating you and Chan started playing with your breasts while still caressing your back and ass, squeezing it hard at times. You licked Hyunjin’s glans and when you opened your mouth wide to take his hard cock fully, Felix thrust his thick tongue inside you, teasing you uncontrollably. You gasped with Hyunjin’s big cock in your mouth, Felix was stimulating the rest of your cunt with his free hand while he couldn't help jerking off.

You were losing your temper, you wanted to explode in your orgasm, but you continued to taste Hyunjin’s cock, licking his entire length, running your lips along it feeling its thin skin and notorious veins, being accompanied by the sweet gasps of that young artist. Hyunjin grabbed your hair, giving you support as you took his shaft, bobbing your head, but you were getting more and more breathless, your eyes began to glisten, you were so close, you were being distracted by the sensation of your nipples being pinched and your breasts being fondled and how very sticky the oral sex Felix was giving you was getting.

“You’re doing it so good princess” Minho’s voice came next to your ear, “You’re so cute taking Hyunjin’s cock so well, good girl.”

Your eyes searched for his image, you were sure your expression was a mess, you didn’t understand how he looked so cute and peaceful as he witnessed the dirty act of his girlfriend’s mouth being filled by his best friend’s dick. It was sick, twisted, it was so fucking hot you had no self-control.

You were collapsing, losing strength, and struggling not to drop your abdomen onto Chan’s thighs. You whimpered with Hyunjin’s cock in your mouth, drooling, with Felix’s tongue inside you and his fingers on your labia and clit, you collapsed in your first climax, making your body quiver. You pulled Hyunjin’s cock out of your mouth for a moment to enjoy your orgasm, took a breath and moaned loudly. Felix felt his hard penis throbbing and in a low moan he cum in his hand as well.

“Aw, baby girl’s first orgasm of the night," Chan spoke tilting his head as he appreciated your trembling body, “Good job, Felix.”

You were weak but skillfully aroused. Your chest was rising and falling with difficulty, you were dizzy between so much pleasure but your mind kept asking that now how would they have fun with you.

He placed you in front of him on his lap again and whispered in your ear:

“Now you’re going to ride daddy’s cock, yes, baby girl?”

His words rocked you. You nodded with big, bright submissive eyes, driving him crazy.

Chan left you in his old place on the couch, stood up and began to undress. Minho plopped down beside you, all watching the little spectacle of the older man undressing.

“Ah, this dude can’t keep his clothes on” Minho commented amused.

You turned to see him, he was also so agitated and excited that you felt bad that you didn’t have him and could attend to him.

When Chan pulled down his pants and boxers to take them off you were engrossed. He was huge. You bit your lip and subtly denied, feeling afraid and insecure, that was going to break you in two, it wasn’t going to fit. But, remembering your boyfriend’s big thick cock there was a good chance you would enjoy it.

“Come here.”

Chan carried you in his arms. You automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, his body was strong, he had big pecs and marked abs. You looked into his eyes… you had never been this intimate and vulnerable with anyone but Minho… now you were being shared with his best friends.

Chan carried you with one arm while his available hand held the base of his erect cock to rub his soft glans on your pussy. You moaned as you were teased and you fliched in surprise.

“Fuck, it’s big” you suddenly blurted out between a sigh, causing a smug giggle to come from Chan, you looked up at him still surprised and blushed.

“You cant take it, babygirl.”

And the next thing you felt was his cock sliding inside you making you whimper. The others watched the act of your body weakening and shuddering as you held tightly to his neck, how your entrance stretched adjusting to Chan’s size as you whimpered louder and louder the deeper he got inside you.

“You feel so good” moaned Chan feeling your walls wrap around his cock completely, “Fuck you Minho, he had all of you to himself?” he mumbled.

His cock slid in easily, you were so wet, you shivered hugging yourself to his neck, resting your face on it, you were as full as you had ever been, slightly fuller than Minho made you, the bulge of his cock was noticeable in your lower belly, Chan came deep inside you, staying a few seconds without moving so your walls could get used to him. “Can I move now, little one?” he whispered sweetly to you.

You nodded quickly, sore but excited, "Yes, please… daddy."

Chan’s ears turned red as he heard you call him daddy and fill him with his fantasies. He grabbed your buttocks and began to control your body over his cock, going up and down slowly, giving them the erotic view of your sensitive hole being penetrated, of his glistening cock thrusting inside you, capturing the arousal of each of you, causing their hands to go to their respective penises and begin to masturbate at the grotesque image of your entrance being abused by Chan’s big cock as you both moaned in pleasure. Even Minho couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his erect cock out to stroke it at the image of your body being absolutely fucked by someone else.

Chan was tearing open every part of you, his pumping cock bouncing into you, his thrusts were gentle, slow and deep, manipulating your body up and down in a sweet rhythm, at that point you were both a mess, your breasts and hard nipples rubbing against his marked pecs as fluids from both of you slid along his cock, trickled out of you onto the floor and stained his sensitive testicles every time you had him deep inside you.

“Shit” gasped Chan, ”Come join in, someone can take her from behind.”

The phrase altered your senses amidst the whimpering mess you were being.

“Is that okay with you, angel?” Chan asked you again breathlessly, “Fuck your beautiful ass?”

You looked him in the eyes, Felix and Hyunjin were already to the side of you with their hands stroking their cocks.

“Y-yes.”

You answered, not sure what could happen. You looked around for Minho with your eyes, he was sitting there watching absolutely everything.

“Good” Chan replied, giving you a tender smile disappearing his lips for a second.

Chan pulled out of you suddenly making you whimper, his cock touched his abs as it was loose. Chan didn’t hesitate, he laid down on the carpet, dropping you down sitting on his cock with your labia between his rigid member.

“This way we’re going to fill you completely,” Hyunjin said.

Chan lifted your body to slip his wet cock between your ass, trying to prepare it before they could enter you that way too. You bit your lip at the sensation, you had long felt the knot in your stomach but you were only prolonging your climax. You became restless and nervous again.

“Fuck, nobody has any lube?” commented Chan somewhat exasperated.

He didn’t want to hurt you, at least he didn’t want Hyunjin to, as he positioned himself behind you and Felix stood in front of you, leaving right in your face the sight of his stiff cock.

“It’s okay, I’ll be gentle” moaned Hyujin, getting on his knees close to Chan’s thighs.

Chan pushed you gently and you quickly understood it was to take his cock again, he lined it up with your entrance as you slowly let yourself fall on top of him, causing you to sigh. You shuddered as you felt Hyunjin’s tip moisten your rear area, rubbing his precum, he parted your buttocks with his hands digging into your skin and entered gently, making you scream louder than Chan’s penis in your vagina.

You whimpered, closing your eyes tightly and biting your lip as the male presences took guilty delight in your suffering. Hyunjin moaned in ragged gasps at the extremely tight sensation of your conduit.

You held yourself tightly in Chan’s abs, whimpering each time you felt his cock deeper in you. You had never had anal sex before and it was burning like hell itself, but the lust in your body was greater than your pain.

“Is it okay, baby doll, are you liking it?” whispered Hyunjin slightly concerned.

“Yes” you whimpered.

Hyunjin was also big and within moments, you were being penetrated on both sides.

"Move slowly, Hyun, let her adjust a little" cautioned Chan.

They both began to move in you leaving you hoarse and breathless, Chan lifting his pelvis and pounding your pussy while Hyunjin buried himself into you, they started slow but their pace gradually increased, leaving you with the most unique experience you were ever going to forget. Chan held you firmly by the hips and Hyunjin squeezed your right buttock with his hand while another hand played naughtily with your breasts.

Then you looked at the blond boy’s genital area, his stubble pubic area with tiny freckles on it, you were transfixed, thinking how uniquely beautiful Lee Felix was, you looked into his eyes before taking his cock and did your best to please him while two of your holes were being completely filled and used.

Your movements on his cock were imperfect due to the constant pounding of Chan and Hyunjin against your body that was driving you crazy. But Felix didn't stop panting, he loved it, he stroked your hair more delicately to how Hyunjin took you a few moments ago. You felt dirty, used and aroused, all your possible entrances occupied and each of them dripping in some fluids, your cheeks were shiny from the little tears shed. You were on the verge of collapse again, once again, your body could no longer hold it in.

On the other hand, Minho smiled happily, happy that lust won on that rainy night, he was in glee at the dirty image of your little body destroyed among men, he was as happy and excited as a young hormonal boy discovering his favorite porn. He was happy to have been able to fulfill your fantasies.

Chan babbled things that left you in the clouds, the moans of the three of them set fire inside you and the situation again seemed like a dream, a very dirty one.

Each of the best friends were enjoying it like they had never experienced sex before, everything was full of lust and passion, a sweet young woman at the beck and call of the pleasures and dark fantasies of men in search of forbidden sansations.

You pulled Felix’s cock out as you felt it quiver in your mouth and happily let him cum on your tongue. You became somewhat foolishly confused letting yourself be carried away by Chan and Hyunjin’s thrusts and whimpered again letting yourself release in the most intense and long lasting orgasm. You wanted to collapse in surrender, but both men continued on you some more until moaning and cumming hard inside you.

“Good girl-” Chan mumbled.

“Fuck, she’s full of cum now” Hyunjin smiled happily.

They both pulled out of you to contemplate the collapse of your twitching muscles expelling their glistening semen.

You finally felt yourself breathing, you thought you had tachycardia, you were out of your senses waiting to recover. You saw Minho approach you, again with his cock sheltered in his pants, with a calm expression and suddenly he carried your weak and naked body in his strong arms, you breathed in his scent and saw him with some embarrassment with your already flustered face.

“You did very well my princess. I love you” he whispered and gave you a tender kiss on your forehead, “Do you want to try something new tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend carried your exhausted body to the warm bathtub that he had already prepared, taking care of you after the unexpected night you had.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭⸙ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

The next morning you didn't know how to act. It was strange, but the first thing you saw when you came downstairs were Minho's other friends at the entrance, Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung and Seo Changbin. You greeted them shyly with a smile, as it was obvious what awaited you next as soon as night fell.

You went to the kitchen, where you heard voices, finding the men who saw you naked and vulnerable a couple of hours ago, the same ones responsible for each of your sighs and pleasure that crazy, rainy night. Everyone sat down to breakfast but it was obvious that the main course they wanted was you right now.

Chan, Hyunjin and Felix left in the afternoon, confusing you, but you quickly realized it was someone else's turn. None of them wanted to lose you from the spotlight, but just four of them got away with it.

Just when you were alone, in the quiet of the balcony reading a book, not paying attention and with your mind spinning trying to process what the fuck was going on; Minho went with Chan to buy you some birth control pills at the town pharmacy because you had forgotten yours and that was the perfect time for the four of them to take you and lure you into a little game.

They told Minho before they left you, “We'll take care of her.” Minho wasn't stupid and knew of the high probability that they would end up fucking you without him being there, which annoyed the hell out of him, but he would see a way to arrange it, that night.

“Want to play baseball?”

That sentence from Seungmin was a total lie and you knew it, still you followed him into the woods, in an area far away from the house, not only him, but the three other guys followed him too.

“Shit, Seungmin, do you know where we are?” mentioned Jisung annoyed.

Seungmin innocently looked around and stopped in his tracks.

“This is the place.”

Everyone remained silent.

“Oh no, we're lost,” Jeongin added dejectedly in jest.

The four of them watched you, again with leering and hungry looks, you wondered for a second... why you had to follow them there, but it wasn't as if your legs were moving on their own.

“Isn't that right, little one? You're lost but you have the good fortune that four kind men will help you get home, only if you obey and thank us, or we could help each other.”

Your breath shortened, you understood Changbin's dirty game perfectly. You saw Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin, then turned your focus back to the closeness of Changbin and his strong grip on your waist.

“And how will I ever be able to thank you?”

Changbin flashed a half smile, “Just be a good girl and obey our directions so you can get home.”

You nodded, “Kiss Jisung, he's waiting for you” he softly ordered you.

Jisung opened his eyes in fright once you approached him, surprised that he is the one you were going to initiate with. You kissed him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations of other lips on yours and in the heat of things, the excitement and pleasure traveled fast in your bodies, you were being fucked by Seungmin and his long cock while doing your best to give a good blowjob to Jisung who was holding on to your body, as both of your hands were busy masturbating Changbin and Jeongin, whose long and nimble digits found a way to play with your clit.

It was a very different baseball game than how you thought.

But your actions had consequences. There you were, in a different pleasure session very distinct from last night, this time Minho was part of it, no longer being sweet and attentive to you, he was spanking your ass hard, forcing you to confess everything you did in the woods with his friends in the afternoon, until you were sore, your ass burning with pain and your eyes shining. His friends enjoyed the spectacle of the game of your pleasure and suffering.

“Take her, guys” Minho said coldly and pushed your body, not so exaggerated but you didn't put up any kind of resistance so he almost threw you. Seungmin came closer to you,

“See? You're nothing but just a fucking slut desperate for some sex. Isn't that so? Look how fucking needy you are.”

His words turned you on, it was the disdainful tone he used and the annoyed expression on his tender face, plus he suddenly started to finger you.

“Should we take turns...? I wanna fuck her” Jisung commented somewhat confused causing Minho to let out an unexpected giggle.

“I'll go first.”

You sighed as you listened to Changbin and let him take your body to the couch, moaning at the pain in your ass at the slightest rub. He spread your legs apart and began to taste your center, rolling your eyes.

“You're rewarding her that way and I think it was clear what a bad girl she was” Seungmin said.

Changbin pulled away from your pussy just at the sweetest moment, controlled your body with ease, turned your body quickly and started to fuck you hard making you squeal.

“Right, you're a little whore” Changbin moaned, spanking you harder on your already red and hurting ass.

You whimpered in pain but his thick cock felt so good around your walls.

“Fuck you, Changbin” Jeongin expressed somewhat frustrated.

Everyone took Jisung's idea, the next one inside you was Jeongin who pulled on your hair as he penetrated you in a delicious pace, the next one was Seungmin, who kept spanking your ass and his body slammed into yours at every deep thrust. And the last one was Jisung, he flipped your body as he fantasized about the movement of your tits while he fucked you hard, he was the one who left you the most breathless and the only one who managed to cum in you.

The others unloaded their cum on your chest as they vigorously pulled their cocks, making you feel dirty and humiliated, but it was something new that you liked.

๋࣭⭑๋࣭ ⸙ ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

Sunday night was the high point of that crazy weekend that seemed to have no end. All it took was telling Minho:

“Why did you split up your friends? On you-know-what…”

“I thought eight guys was absurd.”

“Maybe it's not at all.”

And there you were, naked with eight needy, stiff cocks eager for you. The best part, was the men who carried it. You adored seeing their distinct and attractive faces and bodies begging for you, from the sensations they were giving you.

This time all eight of them were naked, looking so intimidating waiting for the next move. You were a helpless little deer in the woods, surrounded and in the sights of hungry beasts.

Hyunjin was the first to approach you, putting on a show for his friends as his mouth feasted on your breasts and his hand worked fast on your core, then his hand focused mainly on your clit as Jeongin's fingers were sunk deep into you after Hyunjin had happily invited him.

You slowly watched the silhouette of everyone approaching between your blurred vision due to the high level of libido in you and your body trembled in excitement, trying to think in what way they would make your body enough for each of them.

You were still in awe, not understanding the reason that brought you there, but just enjoying and letting yourself be carried away by the lust of the moment. But you had no idea that it was all caused by the domino effect of Minho's curiosity that led him to read your diary that night.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @lailac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne @velvetmoonlght @shadowhunterathene @compersian @binniesbabe @strayywayy @mallielovssyou @isabel-018

lmk if u want to be added for more kinktober, or if i omitted u oopsi, and pls have an age indicator! also I can’t tag some u :p but there’s ur username w luv

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seraphdreams · 1 year ago

Text

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him ��megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡

megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.

and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.

for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.

“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,

bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.

he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.

with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.

he could never interfere with your comfort.

after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.

“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.

“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.

matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.

in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.

megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”

you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”

a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”

you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”

clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.

he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”

you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”

yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.

the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.

“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.

you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”

“let’s fuck, then.”

his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.

in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.

megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.

“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.

this might be his best birthday yet.

he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.

lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.

“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.

his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?

he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.

underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.

“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.

“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.

“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.

while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.

“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.

white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.

after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.

he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.

“you’re the best birthday present.”

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f1fantasys · 6 months ago

Text

Only Mine

Summary - Lando giving you a necklace with his number. Find Charles' version here

Warnings - explicit smut, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing.

'Baby?'' Lando called out to you while you were finishing off your makeup in the bathroom.

''Yeah Lan?'' you replied, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. He was standing in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom.

You rest your chin on his shoulder and looked at him through the mirror. ''Missed you'' you whispered.

You really did miss him. He'd just gotten back from the Chinese and Japanese races which you couldn't go to because of work, so 3 weeks away from each other had you both on edge.

''And i missed you too, which is why i got you a gift'' he said, taking your hands in his and walking to you sit on the bed.

''Oooh i like gifts!'' you excitedly joked.

''Trust me baby, I know'' he smirked.

He opened his drawer and pulled out a long box before sitting next to you and handing it to you.

Intrigued, you took it from him but not before pecking his nose.

You carefully opened it to reveal a gorgeous, dainty gold necklace, but what caught you eye was the pendant in the middle.

It was the word ''four'' etched out with tiny diamonds covering it.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at Lando, your heart fluttering.

He smiled at you. ''Just want you to always remember you're mine, only fucking mine''

''Lan, it's so beautiful, thank you'' you said, launching yourself at him for a tight hug.

He hugged you back before you pulled away and looked at it again. It really was beautiful, but then something else caught your eye.

The word was cut out in handwriting that you knew all too well - it was Landos'.

''Baby, this is your writing. How did you do this?''

''Yes it is, but that's a story for another day. I hope you like it'' he cooed.

''I do, going to wear it everyday. And i love you''

''Love you too sweets''

Lando pulled you in for a kiss which started slow and gentle but very quickly turned sloppy and desperate.

You granted him access as he slid his tongue into your mouth, causing you to suck it for a while as his hands roamed your body.

He pulled you onto his lap and started groping your ass, while you tried to grind down on him.

But you had to stop this from going any further - you had a dinner with friends to get to, and you didn't wanna just have a quick fuck.

''Lando wait. Later. Dinner. Friends'' you mumbled.

''Fuck them'' he said, showing no intentions of slowing down.

''Hmm, I'd rather you fuck me, but later. Come on'' you said, detaching yourself from him and standing up, though your core was screaming in anger, clenching around nothing.

Lando groaned. ''Ugh y/n''

The dinner started off well. You were celebrating a friends' birthday so their was a large group of you. Of course, Lando's hand found homage on your thigh for the whole night, itching closer to where you craved him the most.

You tried to distract yourself by following conversations that were going around the table, which was working until Lando decided to let his fingers slip past your panties and run through your folds.

The action had you jumping in your seat, a flurry of confused eyes looking at you, until he said he kicked you by accident.

Fortunately for you, or unfortunately for Lando, it was soon time to leave and head to the club for a few drinks.

You tried to make up an excuse to go home, but your friends weren't buying it, so here you were being forced to down a few drinks and dance the night away.

You actually were both having fun - you with the girls and Lando with the guys, gossiping and talking shit, dancing crazy to the music on at Jimmy'z, until you went to the bar to get another drink.

A guy - who was at the dinner as well, a friend of a friend, stood beside you and tried to make conversation. He had being giving you weird glances all night, smirking at only you, which you tried to brush off. Right now, you wasted no time in making it obvious that you didn't want to interact with him.

He wasn't budging though, and he was inching closer to you in the limited space. You tried to search the crowd for your boyfriend- or anyone else for that matter but everyone was caught up doing their own thing that no one saw your eyes begging for help.

He looked at your neck and obviously saw your necklace, and putting on a fake, sarcastic laugh.

''Lando Norris huh? Really?''

You looked at him, your eyes throwing daggers at him. ''What's that supposed to mean?'' you asked.

''Well, for starters, he's such a fucking useless driver. Bet i can do better than him and win a race. And baby you can surely do better than a man like him''

You hated when people down talked Lando like this. He was one of the best fucking in drivers in the world and 2 bad races do not define him. And what the fuck does he mean you can do better than someone like Lando?

You took you necklace in your hand and squeezed it tight, somehow trying to draw power from it to tell this guy to fuck off. But he started talking again.

''Bet he doesn't even know how to fuck you properly, bet you can't even make you cum. Let me show you how a night of passion should be' he rambled on.

By now you were seeing red.

''Seriously you need to fucking stop talking right now. I don't owe you anything but I will tell you that you are wrong. Lando is the most talented fucking driver on that grid, and for your information, he fucks me better than you could ever fuck yourself''

Just as you finished saying that Lando appeared by your side. His face laced with confusion as he took your one hand in his and then noticed how you were clinging into the necklace.

''Y/n'' he said. ''What's going on?'' he said, looking at the guy now, throwing his own daggers at him because you wouldn't be pissed off for no reason.

''Oh nothing, just a low life who thinks he knows shit, trying to interfere with our lives, but really just needs to fuck off'' you spat.

''Oh please, what are you guys? 12 years old that you have to wear a piece of jewelry to show off?'' the guy spat back.

Now it was Lando's turn to see red.

''Listen, this is the exact reason she's wearing it. To show losers like you that she's mine, and not yours. So fuck off before I do something you'll regret'' Lando shouted over the music.

You won't lie - hearing him claim you as his and saying he got you that necklace so everyone knew that your only his had turned you on more than it should have.

You squeezed his hand, not bothering to pay any attention to the guy again.

''Lan, take me home please'' you said, rubbing your lips together.

His anger faded when he looked at you and smiled. ''Gladly'' he said, before throwing one last dagger at that stupid man.

You rushed out of the club hand in hand. Lando never let go while waiting for the valet to bring his car over.

The ride home was palpable with tension. Neither of you saying a word but stealing glances at each other ever so often.

Thinking you were being discreet, you started rubbing your thighs together - trying to get some relief to your aching core.

He didn't miss that action though. He settled his hand on your thigh again and squeezed it.

''Wait til we're home baby. I''ll take care of you'' he whispered.

As Lando parked and stopped the engine, he made way to open his door though you stopped him.

Unbuckling your belt you got onto your knees on your seat as best you could in the small car and leaned over. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt before leaning forward and taking one of his nipples into your mouth.

He hissed at the contact. ''Fuck y/n'' he panted as he held your hair out of your face, pulling at it, hard.

You bit and sucked at it while you hand snaked down to unbutton his jeans and slide into his boxers. He was already half hard so when you pulled his dick out it was already standing stern, begging for attention.

You continued to lick a stripe down his torso, stopping to peck his moles, as you pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre-cum over his slit.

Just as you were about to take him into your mouth Lando pulled your head up to give you a dirty kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your skin at just how rough he was.

''You're only mine y/n, never forget that. And next time someone behaves like that, kick him in the balls'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

Before you could even respond, Lando was pushing you head down and his dick in your mouth, making you bop up and down his length.

You deep throated him straightaway - his tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag.

''Yes baby, that's it, taking me so fucking well'' he said as he continued to fuck himself into your mouth.

You moaned at him - words of encouragement always turning you on even more.

''You like that, don't you? Taking my thick girth down the back of your throat so good like that''

You moaned again and pulled up for some air.

Lando watched how your spit was dripping down your chin and he couldn't help but lick some of it off of you before pushing you down on him again.

You could his dick start to twitch in your mouth - his own movements becoming sloppy.

''Fuck me, y/n, not gonna last baby. Gonna cum now'' he grunted through gritted teeth.

And he did. Sheets of warm and salty cum shot in your mouth as he pulled harder on your hair.

You rode him through his orgasm, sucking on his tip before pulling off completely, breath heavy as you looked at him.

He cupped your face and chuckled lightly.

''What?'' you asked, curious as to what his answer would be.

''Who knew an asshole like that would lead to me earning the best head you've ever given me?'' he whispered.

''Fuck Lan, need to feel you in me now!'' you said, already climbing out of the car and running towards the front door of your penthouse.

Lando followed you and as soon as the door was shut he had you against it.

Crashing his lips to yours with an urgency while his hands ripped your dress off of you. You couldn't care less about it. All you knew was you needed to feel him everywhere.

You'd not worn a bra tonight so it was easy for Lando to bend down and latch his mouth to your nipple. Biting and sucking at it, showing it no mercy while his hand massaged your other boob.

You held onto his hair as he sank lower and lower down your torso, eventually settling at his knees.

He pryed your legs open, sliding your tiny panties down them before he attacked your pussy with his lips.

''Fuck Lando'' you panted, your back arching off the door as your pulled on his hair harder.

He wasted no time in finding your clit and kitty licking it with the tongue, while his eyes never left yours.

''Hmm yes, please'' you begged him, not sure what for.

He pulled your pussy apart with both hands, allowing his tongue to slide in with ease through your entrance, before replacing it with two fingers, thrusting in and out of you.

Your nails were now digging into his shoulders, probably leaving purple marks for tomorrow. Your way of showing everyone he was yours..

He set a quick pace, curling his fingers at just the right time for you to feel your orgasm approaching.

''Lan, gonna cum'' you said through bated breaths, and in no time you were gushing your sweet liquid all over his face, his tongue trying to lick and swallow it all while you were a moaning mess above him.

Your legs, definitely like jelly by now, started to give way but Lando quickly stood up and held you up, before jolting you up over his shoulders and walking towards your bedroom.

''So pretty my love'' he whispered, more to himself, as he dropped you on the bed.

You whined. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you said as you sat on your knees and helped him work off his shirt and jeans, stripping his boxers off.

His cock bounced freely, already hard and aching for more. He pumped himself a few times while looking at you watch his actions.

'''Ready baby?'' he asked, though he knew the answer already.

''Fuck me now, please'' you begged again.

Lando pushed you to lay down and placed your legs over his shoulders as he lined himself up with your dripping pussy.

''Remember babygirl, you asked for it, yeah?''

All you could do was nod embarrassingly eagerly, as he thrust his whole dick in you at one go.

Normally he'd give you time to adjust to the intrusion, but on nights like this when you were both riled up, there was no holding back.

You palmed your breast as he fucked into you at a relentless pace, both your moans filling the room, loud enough for people walking on the streets to hear.

''So fucking tight baby, taking me so well. God you feel so amazing'' he muttered through his moans before he leaned down to adorn your neck with enough hickeys to last a month.

''Lan, Lando, Harder, deeper, please'' you edged him on.

Within minutes your body was shaking and trembling below him, your orgasm washing over you violently.

''Fuck me'' he mumbled, his hands now finding your waist and ramming into you with just as much force.

You dug your nails into his biceps, begging him for to stop - or for more - you weren't sure.

Suddenly, you got an idea, so with whatever energy you had, you pushed Lando off you so that he was now laying down.

You quickly climbed on top of him and sank down again, gripping at his abs and setting a quick pace. You watched as he licked his lips and smiled to yourself as his eyes shifted from yours down to your neck.

The necklace

Shining bright and looking beautiful as every on you - this was the reaction you wanted. His eyes grew shades darker and you watched as his breath hitched and he bit down on his lower lip.

You couldn't help but let out a few moans.

''Like what you see baby?'' you asked innocently.

It was as if you tapped him out of his daydream as his eyes found yours again and gave you the biggest boyish grin you'd seen in a long time.

''You fucking know it'' he smirked, now lifting himself up to thrust into you.

You leaned forward so the necklace was now dangling right in front of his face, going crazy with the movements of both your bodies.

Lando leaned up a bit and took it into his mouth, sucking it while his eyes remained your yours above him.

That action alone shot another orgasm through your body, shuddering and closing your eyes to calm your breathing as you felt your cum sliding out of you with each thrust Lando was giving you.

''Mother of fucks this is incredible'' you say incoherently as Lando slides out of you and pushes you back down, pulling your whole body to the edge of the bed where he is now standing and lining up with you again.

He thrust in, holding your legs out the way while watching you face contort with pain and pleasure, both your breaths reaching new heights.

''How did i get so lucky. The prettiest, more intelligent girl out there and best of all the one who fucks me the best. Y/n, you're something else'' he said, clearly now chasing his own orgasm as he was becoming sloppy and could barely hold himself up.

You were too fucked out to know what was happening to be honest.

So you let him have his way with you. You did feel as his thumb found your clit and started circling it.

''Gonna cum for me again? Hmm baby? Got one more in you?'' he asked, not that you had a choice.

Words had long left your brain, so you just let out a series of moans to pleasure his ears, while the sound of your bodies slamming together pleasured yours.

You opened your eyes and saw how Lando let his spit drip from his mouth down to the place you were joined, sliding around his dick and disappearing into your cunt.

''Lan I'm done, gonna cum'' you panted, eyes shutting at how sore you actually were now.

''Do it y/n, let it out'' he said.

And just as you moaned out his name when you felt your orgasm ripping through you, you felt ropes of warm cum filling you up and painting your inner walls white, his dick twitching uncontrollably inside of you.

''Fuck me'' he said as you pulled him down to let his weight fall on you.

The both of you were so zoned out, neither making a move to get up and clean up.

You just held each other, trying to calm your breaths, shivering at the cool air now drying the sweat that was covering you.

Lando felt himself soften inside of you so he slowly slid out - you whined at the loss of contact.

''Be back now, let me clean you up'' he said, running to the bathroom.

You sat up and looked down, seeing the mixture of juices slide out of you had you scooping some up on your finger, just as Lando returned with a warm towel.

Just as you were about to put your digit into your mouth, he moved quickly to lean down and take your finger into his mouth instead.

''Uh, Lan!'' you whined, watching as he sucked on your finger.

He swallowed and smirked at you.

''Sorry baby, it just looked so fucking hot''

You pouted at him but watched as he leaned down further and licked more that was dripping out of you before leaning up and prying your mouth open to drip it into.

''There'' he said, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

After cleaning up and climbing into bed together - you wearing nothing but some lacy panties and a certain piece of jewelry - Lando pulled you into his side and held you close, pecking your nose.

''I love you baby'' he whispered.

''Love you too handsome'' you replied back, you fingers playing with the necklace.

''Thank you again for this Lan. I love it, and it will always tell me - and others - that I'm yours and only yours'' you said.

''Only mine, babygirl''

Requests are open for Lando and Charles!!

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 x reader #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #lando smut

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